Spanish
I miss speaking Spanish regularly. It was fun, challenging. I’m not saying I didn’t always want to speak in English with native English speakers, because I did. But I liked spending some of my time speaking in Spanish. And that doesn’t really happen in Miami.

Fruterías and carnicerías
Part of this is just living in a big city that’s not as sprawling as Miami. But I miss being able to stop in a fruit-stand on the way home from work, and buy veggies and fruits for the day. I also was trying to figure out if there’s a single butcher shop in Miami that’s not in a supermarket. Not that I really need a butcher’s (I don’t eat much meat), but just because I was curious.

The metric system
I have no real problem with Fahrenheit temperature, but fuck people let’s stop teaching our children the imperial system! (actually, I’m not sure why I call it that — apparently the US system is based on an earlier system before the imperial one, which is to say we use a centuries-old measuring system.) If we started today putting in only road-signs that have both measurements, and putting everything else in, at the worst we could switch in 50 years. At best, if it was pushed, we could switch a lot sooner. It probably won’t happen, though. (I also don’t think cooking measures will change anytime soon — but measuring in cups and tablespoons is actually kind of more reasonable than measuring in centiliters…)

Air conditioning
As much as I hate to admit it, I got used to not having A/C in my flat in Madrid. It was nice when it was on in buildings, but as long as I had a fan at night I was fine pretty much every night, and rarely too hot during the day. It’s kind of nice having A/C again — but I like not having to use it. Also I think my entire body feels the difference — my lips and hands have been ridiculously dry since I came back.

Tipping
I hate tipping, especially at restaurants. Not because I don’t like rewarding good service, but because I hate being required to reward every service. The entire system is fucked up. We need to pay servers (and, clearly, hosts and bussers and so forth) fare–no, good–wages and charge diners what they owe from the outset. Then if the service is exceptional, or if the server is really charming, or if the server does something really helpful, then you tip. Or, at least, include the tip in the price on the menu. Don’t just warn “20% tip expected.” It’s different for other professions where tipping is customary, especially the ones where they’re not paid anything specifically for you–things like bellhops. But at restaurants it really bugs me. (In much of Europe, tipping at restaurants is customary, but rather as you do for a taxi — a few euros, more for great service.)

Taxes
This is really the same complaint — prices should reflect the price. Come on, man! If the book costs $13.37, then say so, rather than saying “$12.50 plus tax.” We do our taxes differently than they do in Europe — but that’s an excuse. You can still list your prices as they are with tax included, and just show it on the books. Airlines have finally started doing this, although not always. You can always put a slightly larger sticker: “$13.37 — $12.50 + $.87 tax.”

Pennies
While we’re on the subject of money. In Spain they do use one- and two-cent pieces, which I found really annoying. But in some European countries they essentially ignore coins below five cents. Which I really appreciate — rounding a bit is really fine. Anyway, came across a video today of why we should stop using pennies, and I totally agree.

Public transportation
This is partially just a fault of Miami’s, but Madrid had a fantastic public transport system, and I really miss it. I also miss living five doors down from the entrance to the metro. I miss the night buses. I miss the ease of transit there. Although I may give it a try, it’s really pretty ridiculous for me to take public transit to work in Miami.

Olive Oil

There are some obvious things, too; people I liked there, my flat, living on my own, getting to explore a new city. And obviously, things I don’t miss at all.

But when I got back to Miami I was sick (it turned out that I had strep throat), I was kind of feverish as such, and then the city spent the next few days raining. By Friday, though, I was feeling sort of more up-beat. I started reading the Scott Pilgrim comic books (great), hung out with Murray (fun), and managed to work on a job proposal with him. Oh, I should add that I’ve found a job in Miami—it’s temporary for the moment, but seems quite likely that it will turn into a full-time two-year gig.

Something about all of this, though—I’d guess the liminality of it all, the moments where I’m just waiting, where exciting things have happened and for the moment it’s all slowed down—has resulted in my spending some free time feeling rather morose. It doesn’t help that I’m sometimes a romantic, and that even though I know folks in Miami I feel kind of lonely in some ways.

I think this coming week will help enliven me, get my blood flowing at its normal speed. It would be good to feel healthy, spry. Up for anything. Adventure!

Last weekend, Ashley and Mateo and I went to San Sebastian. We had a great time, which is to say that it’s a beautiful city and has amazing food. San Sebastian (Donastia) is a city in the north of Spain, in the Basque country–very close to France. It’s known for its food, its beach (La Concha), and not all too much else.

We essentially took San Sebastian as a place to relax. Which is as it should be. We got there on Thursday — I took the train up, and met the two of them on the beach. La Concha, The Shell, the only beach we really frequented, is a gorgeous ring-shape, and the water is pretty warm all things considered–which is to say, considerably warmer than the water off the Oregon coast, but not quite as warm as Miami beach water. (How’s that for a stupidly long sentence?) It was a fun beach to visit, and we spent a lot of time there, as well as walking up and around the city, seeing the fortifications, and so forth.

But I’m going to focus on the part of the trip that’s most worth writing about: eating food. Mostly, we ate tapas, there called pintxos (pronounced, and spelled in the rest of Spain, as pinchos). Pintxos are just small dishes; the way we did it was we went from bar to bar, trying pintxos. In the south, tapas usually come with a drink. Not so here, so it’s not cheap. But that’s okay.

Thursday night we started at a place called La Cuchara de San Telmo, recommended by my friend Ade, where I started out adventurously with pretty excellent foie. I don’t remember exactly how it was prepared, but it was surprisingly tasty. Ashley wasn’t so pleased with her bacalao. Second, we went to Ganbara, an unimpressive bar where I had bacalao, but we also got our first taste of the Basque white wine txakoli, which all three of us really liked. Third, we went to Txepetxa, perhaps one of the better places of the night, essentially a bar that serves anchovies on bread prepared with different toppings — all of them delicious. At the recommendation of the NYTimes article posted on the wall, I tried the one that came with eggs of an erizo de mar. Fourth, we went to Zeruko, a fancier bar that had beautiful pintxos; I had the first morcilla I’ve ever liked, served with a fried quail egg. I’m glad I gave it a chance. Lastly, we went to Restaurante Munto, another rather good bar — at least I was pleased. There, I had a pintxo with goat cheese and caramelized onions on bread — traditional, but always delicious. A good night.

Friday afternoon, we splurged, and went for the Menu de Degustación at Bodegón Alejandro, which I’m so glad we did. Here’s the menu (and here’s a picture of it, in Basque):
0: An amouse bouche of this asparagus-cream drink, with bread crisps. both salty, both tasty.
First course: A chilled marinated anchovy lasagna, with the anchovies laid atop a ratatouille base. It was pretty great; we gave it an A.
Second course: Fried tomato stuffed with chipirones (squid), on a bed of risotto made with the squid ink. I don’t always like squid ink, but it worked well, the cheese sauce was great, and the entire thing was amazing. A+
Third course: Grilled hake (merluza) with mashed potatoes and a sauce of mussel “juice” — not amazing, but buttery and savory. B
Fourth course: Glazed veal cheek on a terrine of bacon and potato slices, with a roasted red pepper sauce. This was very good, although kind of gluttonous. A-/B+
This was the last savory dish. After we finished, they brought us small glasses of a sweet orange wine, which I really liked (but I like sweet fruit wines).
Fifth course: Torrija (Spanish French toast, hah) with a caramelized top and cheese ice cream. This — well, both desserts — was amazing. Mateo thought it too sweet, but I disagree. Both get A/A+ ratings.
Sixth and final course: Slightly spicy peach gnocchi, with coconut ice cream and a vanilla-lemon sauce.
As we finished, they gave us drinks of leche merengada, which was more like egg nog than a milkshake. Also soft almond biscuits. Yeah. Anyway, certainly we were stuffed.

After a few hours at the beach, and a few hours of walking around, we had a bit of dinner:
First, we went to Izazpi, where I got a goat cheese, honey, onion, and pepper pintxo, which was quite good. Second, to A Fuego Negro, which was disappointing — a shrug-inducing cup of shrimp soup. Third, some good but not great risotto at Txondorra. I ended with an anchovia pintxo at Txepetxa again.

I have nothing else to add, nor pictures of the food.

I also got to stay with Marta, who’s amazing. Also an excellent hostess. It was fun to get to see her!

The festival was here, which is to say here. Which was an excellent venue for a music festival.

It’s a huge place; there were four main large stages, several smaller ones, and a gigantic auditorium. According to one place I looked, there were over one hundred thousand people. Definitely there were at least 75,000. Which is actually pretty ridiculous, when you think about it. I can’t really understand that number of people.

In any case, if you’re curious, here are the bands I saw. The ones who had enjoyable shows, or something worth noting, have a picture or a comment, or both. I have pictures of all of the shows I saw, except for Owen Pallett’s show and the one show I can’t really count. All in all, I saw 31 shows over the weekend, although of course most of them I didn’t see all of. I’d hazard that very few of the shows were longer than an hour.

Day 1. Show 1.
The Wave Pictures
Went with this kid I met in Bilbao, Fernando, and his friends. Shrug.

Day 1. Show 2.
Monotonix
Tagged along here. Only saw the last song, but their show was ridiculous. Mostly-sans-clothes. Running through the audience with the microphone and drum. Yeah.

Day 1. Show 3.
Titus Andronicus
A bit of a large stage for them, in my opinion. Fun.

Day 1. Show 4.
The xx

I really like this band’s album. You’ve probably heard “Crystalised” or “VCR” — if not, try ‘em out. They’ve gotten a bad rap for their live shows, but — and I acknowledge that this may come from the fact that I was expecting worse — I rather enjoyed seeing them. They weren’t amazing, and they were mostly just rather calm, but they put on an enjoyable show. It rained slightly during it, which was too bad, but honestly it was barely a sprinkle. I stayed for the whole show.

Day 1. Show 5.
Broken Social Scene
These guys put on a great show. I’d seen them before, at Brandeis I think (with my sister). I really like their new album, besides. I’m fairly sure I stayed for their whole show, although to be honest I don’t really remember.

Day 1. Show 6.
The Books

I love The Books. They’re one of my favorite bands. They do… I dunno, curious music. And for their live shows, they compile these amazing videos. Here’s a junction between good video and good song: “Smells Like Content“. “Tokyo” is another great song, although this video isn’t as great (and is fan-made). I got to see them do the former; not the latter. At this show, I met two American guys from D.C. while we were all waiting for the show to start. They were quite nice. I stayed for this entire show. I was really impressed by how well they did playing out of doors. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it totally did. And I’m glad; this marks the second time I’ve loved them live.

Day 1. No show.
Pavement
With Rob and Tom, the guys from above, I walked over to the Pavement show. But we didn’t stay. It was nearing the end, none of us really knew the music, and it was PACKED. Instead, we went to…

Day 1. Show 7.
Sleigh Bells
This was enjoyable, despite this being essentially hard rock with some woman screaming.

Day 1. Show 8.
Apse
I took off after a while at Sleigh Bells, and went to see Apse. I like their music (thanks, Ali), but I couldn’t get into the show.

Day 1. Show 9. Last show of the day (for me) — 02:30 AM.
Fuck Buttons
I don’t know their music very well. They’ve got some songs I like, though. They’re kind of a noise DJ pair? I don’t know. See what wiki has to say.

Well.

I took the night bus to the Plaza de Catalunya, and then walked to Marta’s place.

Day 2. Show 1.
Owen Pallett (used to go by Final Fantasy)
I really like Owen Pallett, and honestly this was one of the best shows of the festival. Unfortunately, I arrived late — the show started at 16:00 — so I only caught the second half and didn’t take any photographs. Pallett is a really good musician; his live show is really cool to watch. He plays the violin — very well — and loops it on itself, live, to create his songs. Also he had accompaniment. I encourage you to give him a try, but honestly I’m not sure what song to recommend. This song (with its ridiculous video) is excellent. So’s this one (the names are the couple who form The Arcade Fire; Pallett toured with them but I don’t know the origins of the song). Anyway, really fun. Also, this show and several others I went to this day were in the auditorium, which was super-nice.

Day 2. Show 2.
Hope Sandoval and the Warm Inventions
Hope Sandoval is apparently rather strange; she and her band played their show in almost-complete darkness, and she (above and beyond the theatre’s prohibition) asked that we not take photographs. I don’t know her music very well. I do like it, though. I stayed for the whole show, although I dazed off for some of it. I had gotten up to the second row, so it’s too bad these two shows weren’t reversed.

As I left, I saw this enormous line to get into the auditorium, for a band called Low. I think maybe Europeans know this band better than Americans, because I’m pretty sure I don’t know them at all. Although apparently they’re American, and worthy of huge queues.

Day 2. Show 3.
The New Pornographers
I’m not the hugest fan of this band, although I do like them. I didn’t stay for much of their show, since a friend from Madrid, Javi, gave me a call. So I joined him for a band he really liked:

Day 2. Show 4.
Nueva Vulcano
Javi and his friends really like this band, and knew all the words. It was pretty good, so I stayed for the whole show. It was my first not-in-English-show. Then I followed Javi and his friends back to the auditorium.

Day 2. Show 5.
Junip
I’d never heard of this band, and no wonder, since they’ve never released an album. It’s a group project featuring José González, the Swedish singer probably best known for his covers. (“Heartbeats“, originally by The Knife. “Teardrop“, originally by Massive Attack.) It was a nice show, although weird since I knew none of the music.

Day 2. Show 6.
CocoRosie
I have mixed feelings about them. Their live show is supposed to be fun, but I decided not to stay for longer than a few songs. They seemed to be having fun.

Day 2. Show 7.
Beach House
I like Beach House better anyway, and I’m glad I got to see a good part of this show. It was completely packed, so I didn’t get as close as I would’ve liked. But they’re excellent musicians, and I was pleased that they were good live. Around this time, I managed to miss two bands I would’ve liked to have seen: Here We Go Magic, and (more importantly) Wilco. I’ll have to see Wilco some other time to make up for it.

Day 2. Show 8.
Standstill

I saw this band a few weeks ago in Madrid. They weren’t as good in the auditorium, but they’re excellent musicians, and this time they played with this cool video behind them. I liked parts of the video quite a lot.

Day 2. Show 9.
Panda Bear
I left Standstill to go see Panda Bear, which was honestly a waste of time. He played a lot of new stuff, I think. I wandered off and got food after a while. Disappointing. I love Animal Collective, of which he’s a part. And I like his solo work — I just need to listen to it more. Also maybe he’d be more fun in a smaller space.

Day 2. Show 10.
Marc Almond
Do you know who this guy is? I didn’t. He’s apparently a member of Soft Cell, which means he played “Tainted Love.” His wiki article makes him seem like an interesting guy, but other than “Tainted Love” I was kind of bored. I just sat and watched because there wasn’t much else going on right at this point.

Day 2. Show 11.
Major Lazer

And then I went to Major Lazer. Which was a-mazing. They’re a collaboration between DJs Diplo (Philadelphia) and Switch (London) and a bunch of singers crossing a bunch of genres… See the wiki page. I actually first heard of them from, of all places, The New Yorker. See here. Actually, I believe I first read this blurb in the print edition when it came out. Anyway, Major Lazer shows are ridiculous affairs, including a type of dance known as Daggering I’ll leave you to look up yourself. Also, errr, watch this video. Before the show started, I met this Swedish guy who was on his own at the show, and these two girls who had been studying in France. I stuck with the Swedish guy for the whole show — his name was Leo, or perhaps Lio. We walked up to the next show, but then he ran off — and we oddly ran into each other again at Diplo’s solo DJ set later that night. He was possibly on something… here’s him with a mask on:

Sometime around now I missed seeing the Pixies. Yeah, I know.

Day 2. Show 12.
Yeasayer
I saw Yeasayer and wrote extensively about the show in these pages a short while ago. But I’m glad I went to see them again. Their show wasn’t quite as good, but it was very nearly so. I saw next to me this kid who had also been at the Books show, I’m almost sure. I recognized him because he was one of the only people dancing to The Books. He and I grinned and danced together for the duration of the show, and talked briefly. Nice guy. I always like when people aren’t afraid to dance during shows.

Day 2. Show 13.
The Bloody Beetroots
If you’re counting, you’ve noticed that it’s probably getting late at this point. It is. Yeasayer’s show was at 02:30. I stopped off to watch a bit of the Bloody Beetroots, who are apparently famous, while I waited for 04:30 to come — when Diplo came on. Shrug.

Day 2. Show 14.
Joker feat. Nomad
I don’t think this really counts. I can’t remember it, and I only saw like five minutes, max.

Day 2. Show 15.
Diplo
Dipo is a really good DJ. I sometimes wonder what a DJ does on the stage, but Diplo, regardless of anything else, makes it all work. Excellent show. Lots of dancing.

Got home on one of the early trams. Very easy.

Day 3. Show 1.
Dr. Dog
I like Dr. Dog quite a lot. I wish I had gotten here in time for the whole of their set, but as it was I only really saw the second half.

Day 3. Show 2.
Nana Grizol

I met up with Fernando and his friends Leire and Ignacio. We sat in the bleachers and watched this show. It was actually pretty good, considering I’d never heard of this band before. They were already kind of drunk.

Day 3. Show 3.
Florence + the Machine

Florence Welch has attracted a lot of attention, won a few awards, and so forth — and with good reason, seeing as how she’s excellent. This song is one of the more well-liked, as is “Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up)“. She reminded me of Kate Bush, sort of, in what she was wearing and how she performed, although her voice is gorgeous and amazing. It was a truly excellent show; I saw the entire thing.

Day 3. Show 4.
Grizzly Bear
I really like Grizzly Bear. I don’t know their music as well as I would have thought, because I was somewhat lost at their concert, but I disagree with what some people have said — I think they played a really excellent show, and really liked the songs of theirs that I knew well. (Including a beautiful rendition of “Knife” and one of “Ready, Able“. They also, of course, played “Two Weeks.”) I stayed for the whole show.

Day 3. Show 5.
Matt and Kim

This show had the sad honor of being more or less the last one I really wanted to see. On the bright side, it was pretty wonderful. They played a short set — ten minutes less than an hour, at least — but I managed to dance up a sweat, get knocked over by Kim crowd-surfing, get drizzled on by someone’s thrown beer, get to the front lines, and so forth. They did some brief covers (“The Final Countdown”; Alice Deejay’s “Better Off Alone”), and jumped about, yelled, and never stopped smiling. I saw them at Haverford a while back, and they were amazing then; they were also amazing now. This video (for “Lessons Learned”) has gotten them some attention; their song “Daylight” is pretty well-known for a small song. And those are both more recent. The crowd had a surprising number of Spaniards; I asked one of them how he knew of M&K and he told me he’d found them on youtube. So hurrah.

Day 3. Show 6.
Sunny Day Real Estate
Apparently these guys are famous. I kind of knew this. They sing that song “Song About an Angel“. They were fun, although mostly I just know that song.

Day 3. Show 7.
Pet Shop Boys
End of the night for me. I’d never even heard of these guys, a British group. They put on a really good show, apparently, but I didn’t know the music and wasn’t so into it, so I didn’t stay. Sad, I know, but such is the case.

And then I went back to Marta’s, slept, and caught a plane home.

I really liked the train station in Bilbao. Something about it in the off-light of Friday afternoon… I took a few pictures. (See?) This is really what it looked like — a grey, but still bright, day.

That same day, I walked to the Guggenheim. This is one of the main tourism draws of Bilbao, and I really enjoyed it, both inside and out. Photography wasn’t permitted inside, but there was an amazing temporary exhibition of (sculpture) work by Indian-British artist Anish Kapoor. He’s the guy who made The Bean in Chicago.

I also took a photo of myself in the glass.

The next day, I took the metro out to the beach at Sopelana, maybe forty minutes from the center. It was gorgeous.

My last day, I went to the Fine Art Museum before I left. Outside, was this:

This drawing (made by one of my students, months ago, of how he thought my name was spelled) is completely irrelevant to this post. Unfortunately (and unsurprisingly) I failed to bring a camera with me yesterday when I went rock climbing in a palce called Valeria (or Las Valeras; I think this is the area and Valeria the town we were in) near Cuenca.

So I had told one of my friends here, a co-worker named Ade, that I was into climbing, and she introduced me (via email) to a friend of hers named Javi who they all call Geme (short for gemelo, identical twin, which he is). And so we made plans and yesterday I met him at the train station in Getafe, about twenty minutes south by regional train, which is where he lives. He in turn drove me to where we met up with his friend Luis, who’s in his mid-thirties and into climbing, and the three of us drove about two hours to where we were climbing. There, we met up with Fran, Elena, and two others whose names I’ve kind of forgotten — Mariano? and Alma-something. They all (more or less) know each other from the climbing gym they go to in Getafe.

Now as I’ve mentioned before, I have more trouble with Spanish in groups speaking Spanish than I ever would with one person speaking Spanish — with one person, I can ask questions. With a group, I’m not going to stop every time I don’t understand. So I miss a lot even when the number ups to two. Not to say that I don’t follow, but I have to try a lot harder. A lot.

In any case, Fran had two ropes, and Mariano (an Argentine!) had one, so we were all set. The site was quite pretty, despite being odd in a few ways — literally on the side of the road for one, and in the midst of someone’s backyard for another. (I think it’s an odd case of eminent domain, maybe — the house was fenced off, and the man I saw was this super-old dude. The house was like literally built into the rocks, besides, and there was a smokey fire burning in the front yard when we arrived.) The weather was grey, but not too cold that I needed more than a light jacket. And, of course, we were climbing!

This image, also, is more or less irrelevant. These dudes were changing a poster on the side of the department store near my house today, so I took a photo. Actually, I took the photo from Guillaume’s balcony, which has an awesome view; my camera was in the flat.

Anyway, I only ended up doing three routes, since it began to rain around 14:00. Nonetheless, it was awesome. The routes were all reasonably easy, for me; I guess my strength and endurance is better than I had thought. In any case, the first was a 5c, which is really like a 5.8 or 5.9 by the YSD system, for the one person reading who has any clue what I’m talking about. (Moreover, rating scales tend to change around the world, at least in my opinion; they only give you some idea of what you’re talking about.) The climb was straightforward, and maybe 10 meters high, although honestly I’m awful at estimating height. It went around a tree, and then straight up the face. It was also already set up, so I just top-roped it. The second and third climbs I did were both 6a, or 5.10a; I remember neither name but both were slightly difficult. I led both; the first had the quick-draws already set into the bolts. The first had a sequence, around the fourth or fifth clip, that was somewhat tough; there weren’t really handhelds to be noticed. At the same time, the next clip was pretty close, and it just wasn’t such a big deal. The second climb was pretty straightforward as well, and probably my favourite; it was also only my second time leading a climb completely (which is to say, I brought up quickdraws myself). None of them were terribly difficult; I’d like to get onto something a little harder next time. But they were all quite a lot of fun.

After, we all went into the tiny town of Lower Valeria, where we found a bar and had some beers (€1.40 per) and giant sandwhiches (€3 per; I had chistorra). We sat and talked (well, I talked only a little) for around an hour, and then took off. (Not before getting to see Elena’s Volkswagen California, a sort-of-camper van VW makes here but not in the US.) All in all, excellent fun.

What is one of the most difficult things for me in terms of connecting with (men) here in Madrid?

There are a number of good answers. And I’m interested to hear what you would answer for me. But I have one that I run into surprisingly often, beyond the simple problem of language: I don’t like football. (Which is to say, soccer.) It’s this gigantic field of conversation that I’m entirely cut off from — I don’t know the players, nor the teams, nor who’s good nor who’s bad. I don’t really care for watching it. I don’t really enjoy the culture. I remember reading, in an NYT Magazine article about people with Williams Syndrome, about how some woman with the disorder had learned all about a sport so she could discuss it with people. I’m not there, where I need or want to do that. I never will be. But I do recognize that I miss out on something because I’m not into it. I would probably be able to make friends with dudes a lot more easily on the basis of this alone — it’s just something that’s easy to bring up. Bonding over a love for weird movies is a lot harder.

(The quote from the Dobbs article is from a part where one of the women’s mothers is talking: “Nicki has always especially loved to talk to men. And in the last few years, by chance, she figured out how to do it. She reads the sports section in the paper, and she watches baseball and football on TV, and she has learned enough about this stuff that she can talk to any man about what the 49ers or the Giants are up to. My husband gets annoyed when I say this, but I don’t mean it badly: men typically have that superficial kind of conversation, you know — weather and sports. And Nicki can do it. She knows what team won last night and where the standings are. It’s only so deep. But she can do it. And she can talk a good long while with most men about it.”)

Which is, fine, a weird comparison to make, perhaps. But I think it’s also an interesting one, because it hits on the necessity to immediately come upon a conversation topic with someone when you’re not literally forced into each other’s company. Football is loads more simple than film, music, or . . . I dunno. What would I want to talk about, anyway? Maybe seven or eight years ago I had this supremely uncomfortable conversation with a friend, wherein I first really recognized that I was missing out on something by not caring about sports — that by not being interested, I missed out on this superficial level of communication that somehow walks the line towards meaningful, despite its mass appeal. To be fair, I get the same problems with not being interested in television — that just comes up more rarely here. It’s a lot easier when you’re working together with someone, or traveling — but a lot more difficult when you’re not terribly extroverted, nor can you easily hit upon a topic on which to connect. (Another good one, according to some social psychology studies, is agreeing on something you dislike. I like this fact.)

Relatedly, I’ve been climbing about once a week, every Thursday. And I have yet to really talk to anyone at the climbing gym. Climbers are notoriously friendly, and so I find myself wondering whether I’m unapproachable-looking. I also think that sooner or later I’m going to have to be un-shy. Shyness is a personal trait that also fits into this conversation, as seems clear. Especially since at a climbing gym, say, football is a lot less likely to come up than at a traditional exercise gymnasium. Much more likely to talk about random shit, or about climbing in general. I’d doubtless have spoken to people before, even given my being shy, but for the fact that I’m also nervous about my Spanish, and have trouble getting a read on people’s relationships. At climbing gyms, people tend to say hi to people they only vaguely know — in the gyms I’ve been to in the States, I’ve always ended up knowing random people.

For example, I see a few of the same men every time I’m at the gym. We’ve even started to say hello. But I can’t bring myself to say more than that one word to them. It doesn’t help that they’re better climbers than me — I really should be going in twice a week if I want to get better — but obviously that doesn’t matter so much. It’s not even that hard. It’s just that recurring reminder of my not being able to be friendly. I’ll overcome it. Or not. I know what to do. I just need to actually do it.

The weird part is that it’s not really fear of rejection. Anyone I have talked to, however briefly, has been friendly. There’s just some invisible barrier that’s unbreachable. We’ll see.

In coming back to Madrid, I’m interested in what is and what feels changed, different. For sure, coming back here didn’t feel like moving to a new city — it felt like coming home. I think I’ve become better at feeling at home in places. I still don’t feel at home in other people’s houses, so perhaps it’s more that I’m becoming quicker at making a place feel like my home. Nonetheless, it’s a nice feeling, and as such I’ve promised myself to make the best of being in Spain. Take advantage of my luck, right?

I’ve started working with a professor at the Universidad Complutense de Madrid, who’s doing EEG research into depression. We’re creating and carrying out a study, and because I have experience with EEG, he’s letting me take a greater role than I might have done if I had stuck with MEG work — although he’s promised me the opportunity to observe some MEG studies if I’m interested. (I am.) I’m excited to get back into doing psychology work; I’ve already mentioned on this forum that I’ve come to actually miss it. And if things go well, I may be able to help with any paper that comes out of this work — it helps to be fluent in English here, since most significant scientific publication is in English. Excellent.

As most people reading this know, I’ve applied to graduate school in clinical psychology, and I’ll be interviewing shortly. That’s a change, actually — a change in what kind of nervousness I’m feeling. But damn-exciting, no? I’m getting really excited about all of this, which is great up until the possibility where I don’t get in anywhere. But I’m keeping my hopes up, and if I do get in to grad school, then I’ll be thrilled to get started. Terrified, of course. But thrilled.

Here are some of the things that will happen before the end of the year, though. Things to look forward to, things to work on. For one, Joe will be coming to visit in early February. That should be exciting and fun. I may miss part of his visit for an interview, but I’ve no doubt that he’ll survive. My parents and maybe my sister are coming in the end of March, which should also be fun; we’ll explore Madrid and travel up to the north of Spain.

I also fully intend to do some outdoor climbing and hiking. There are amazing mountains in this country. Let’s take advantage of that, Justin! I’ve been meaning to buy a book on mountaineering in Spain; maybe from the climbing gym (I’m going this week; it seems worth it for the fun, and because maybe I’ll meet some people I like). There’s good hiking near Madrid, once it’s a bit warmer, and Kara recommended climbing up near Zaragossa, in an area called Rodellar. That sort of climbing would require a group, but I bet I can find bouldering somewhere nearby here. So I will! And maybe a friend will come with me and enjoy the outdoors and make sure I don’t break my neck.

In mid-May, I’m going to this music festival in Barcelona called Primavera Sound. Stee went two years ago and raved about it; the lineup is pretty awesome, I think. I’ve never been to a music festival before! Should be fun. And then of course, in July, I’ll be doing some traveling. I’m still unsure about my plans, but I want to head to some places in Europe that I’m really curious about. Suggestions are welcome!

Beyond that, I’ve just got to take advantage of things like being-in-Madrid. And meet some more Spaniards. Such shall it be.

So the other day my friend Rebecca mentioned that she’d been doing story-telling things with her students (here in Madrid), and she talked about it a bit more in an email to me. Now, her students are a lot more advanced than mine, and she’s doubtless a better teacher than I am, but I nonetheless decided that bringing stories into classes was probably something I could do.

Last week, I did basic (fake) mad libs with them. It was actually hard — not because they couldn’t understand the story, but because they didn’t get the task. I think I’ll give it another try in a bit, and see how it goes. (By “didn’t get it,” I mean that they picked easy words, instead of fun/funny words — mad libs don’t work with “table,” “walk,” and “tall” nearly so well as they work with “space ship,” “punch,” and “flabbergasted.” Obviously the vocabulary of these kids is a limiting factor, but still.)

This week, however, I had some of my kids write stories. I did a super-basic brainstorming activity — they picked ten or so “interesting” words and then had to write a story using three of them. In one class, for example, this was their word-list: lightning, alien, wolf, bear, beer, bus, bowling alley, skating, orange, jupiter, glove. Now, this was fifth-graders, mostly. And these kids don’t have a very high level of English. I can’t really place any of these kids at a level — sometimes they seem to understand perfectly, and sometimes not at all — but I think they’re probably around where I was in fifth grade, with Spanish. Which is to say: pretty bad. A lot of their problems stemmed not even from language, though, but from just being lazy — most of the stories they wrote didn’t make any sense because they just tried to cram the words together instead of telling a story.

Here’s one of the best stories, by a kid named Guillermo. I’ve corrected his grammatical and spelling mistakes.

The Magic Bowling Alley.

I am in the bowling alley and I see a magic bowling pin. I am amazed. This is a magic pin! I run to there. Oh no! It is very fast. And soon it disappears. I try to follow it. But I lose track of it. One day, I will catch the magic pin.

Even here, the story is ridiculous and nonsensical. But it’s creative and kind of fun. Here’s one of the ones that makes almost no sense:

The alien is orange. It comes to the city, rides the bus, sees a bear, and drinks a beer in its space ship. It arrives at Jupiter.

Even that is better than this (again, as before, I’ve corrected mistakes where I can):

Suddenly I. Between lightning. Suddenly aliens and I ride a bus. Suddenly orange aliens appear, and burst (?) to everyone and travel to Jupiter.

(I think this kid wasn’t listening when I explained what “suddenly” meant.)

I also did this exercise with some of my older students, who are between 14 and 17, I’d say. They had less fun with it, maybe, but they seemed to enjoy it somewhat nonetheless, and some of them wrote stories that, while still short, were kind of fun. (Their word list also began with lightning — that was my word — and was almost entirely made up of words I gave them, because they don’t like to talk.) Here’s one I thought was funny (by Victor):

One day, wild lightning attacked a house. Inside there was a young man, smoking and drinking vodka. He wasn’t paying attention and he burned himself. He tried to escape the lightning to ask for help, but no one saw him, so he died. The end.

I’m interested by how writing tasks some of these students a lot more than others — for some of them, they write a few words in English and it takes forever. For others, they can write a lot — not necessarily well — and just keep on doing so. None of them really had a good story, or even the start to one. Maybe we’ll work on this.

Anyway, I had fun with these. I think I’ll do it again. I have lots of writing exercises sitting somewhere in my head.

Oh glorious.

Made dinner for my flatmates tonight: Matar Paneer (Indian peas-and-fresh-cheese in a tomato sauce) and Sambhar (Indian lentil-vegetable stew; I usually use masoor dal, red lentils, because they cook faster and are easier to find). Both were pretty good; neither was perfect. The milk burnt a little while I was making the cheese (because we don’t have a big pot, so I boiled it in the wok — not the best idea), so the cheese was sort of smokey. Which wasn’t bad, but isn’t right. And the sambhar wasn’t as spicy as I like it because my flatmates aren’t big spice fans. But actually quite fun and delicious. I assume there are lots of left overs. Although I didn’t make enough rice. Still: cooking for seven people on your own is difficult.

Last night, I went and saw this ridiculous play with Aitor, in an old bordello. It was called “Por Dinero,” and was actually 13 short plays in 13 different rooms; you picked five of them to see. We got into six through good fortune. It was really fun and the plays were on the whole quite intriguing. Interesting thoughts about prostitution and such.

I’m mostly done with my applications. Working on plunging through the last bunch, yea?

So in March or so, my friend Hannah Sb. (antimony!) organized a reading group at Haverford to read Mark Danielewski’s novel-like-book, House of Leaves. She got money from the Humanities Center to sponsor it, got maybe 10 people to join, and then started things up. Which was awesome, except I had no time to read, and ended up not going to any meetings.

But I still had the book.

I read some of the book when I was home this summer, but not really all that much, and then I brought it with me to Spain. Last weekend, on the bus rides to and from Salamanca, I read a good hundred-and-fifty pages*, which put me steadily into the book.

I haven’t entirely decided how I feel about it. I wouldn’t recommend reading the wikipedia page unless you’re not at all interested in reading it, because you’ll want to discover these things on your own. If you’ve read the book, there’s a funny XKCD comic parodying it.

The book is complex. Before I even explain the plot, let me explain: I’ve mapped out seven (or so) layers of the book (like Frankenstein, there’s a story-within-a-story). Here they are, from outermost to innermost:
1. Mark Z. Danielewski
2. “The Ed.s”
3. Johnny Truant
4. Zampanò’s typists
5. Zampanò†
6. Will Navidson’s film, The Navidson Record
7. the interviews and documentary footage within the film

† Within Zampanò’s text, perhaps alongside The Navidson Record, there are also quotes from sources: some are real, and some are not. He’s criticizing (or at least playing along with) ideas of literary criticism, here; and sometimes he borrows without citing. (e.g., on page 42, he references a story by Borges, treating it as reality.)

So at every level of this text, we can question the reliability of our narrators. Can we trust the narrators? We certainly can’t trust Truant. And he doesn’t trust Zampanò, who he thinks made up the film. And Zampanò didn’t write his book himself — he’s blind. So he also obviously couldn’t've seen the film. But he says it exists. And supposing it exists, can we trust that it accurately portrays events? And can we trust the video diary entries of its characters? Nah.

Truant is editing Zampanò’s book, but alongside editorial footnotes, he also provides pages of footnotes describing his own life, mostly his sex, drugs, bar-hopping, and the terrifying feelings of being watched and about to die. Zampanò is analyzing, but mostly just describing (not a good critic!), the film by Will Navidson. And the film is about the house where Will Navidson, his girlfriend, and their children live. Which grows a giant labyrinth beneath it. In a classic horror film sort of way. Only not really at all.

This makes it sound interesting but also frustrating, and it is. I’ll set me down and read another fifty pages sometime soon, I’m sure, but this isn’t a book to carry and read on the subway. (For that, I’m starting The Pillars of the Earth. In Spanish.)

I’m sure I’ll keep updating as I read more.

* Admittedly, almost 100 of those pages were the Whalestoe Institute letters appendix, which is fascinating but much easier to read than the normal parts of the book, which tend to be denser and filled with footnotes. The letters are self-contained and go more easily, although they too are complicated.

The other day, when we went to the Rodchenko exhibition, we were originally trying to get to Avila. We failed, but pretend these two photos are from there:

I like these photographs a lot.

They’re mostly in black-and-white, since they were black-and-white images, and the dichromatic look brings ‘em out better.

Okay, this isn’t technically true. I went and saw that band (Habana Abierta) with Emily and Mateo and Genny and Ashley and Maureen. But that was a band I’d only ever heard once before, and it’s not the same.

Anyway, last night I joined my friend Adelaida, with whom I work, to see Micah P. Hinson play at the Teatro Circo Price in Madrid. (You can even see photos from the concert, not taken by me, on flickr; o the internet.) According to her boyfriend, whose name I will admit to having forgotten, Hinson is a lot more popular in Europe than in the States; no one seems to have heard of him. (I learned of him from Ade.) He sounds to me a bit like Murder By Death (the band, not the movie), although his most recent album (All Dressed up and Smelling of Strangers), which he played a lot of music off of, is a variegated cover album, which really covers all sorts of music. His music is usually on the folk side of things, but one song he played made me think of the Ramones (it wasn’t a Ramones cover), one made me think immediately of the Dead Kennedys (I just listened to them as a result), and he covered Bob Dylan.

I don’t think that description really tells you very much, but I guess it’s as it’s going to be.

Micah, although technically the headliner (I think), played second; before him was a group called The Duke and The King, who played a sort of pop-rock that was pretty fun. (They also covered Helter Skelter.) And after him was a more-or-less-blues group called Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears, who were fun, although I left about halfway through their set. (Best part of their set: a song called “Bootie Town” — in part because it was actually a fun song, and in part because of being asked what bootie meant. He translated, actually. He didn’t really speak Spanish (and for comparison, Hinson didn’t even try; there were clearly some people who understood, but a lot more I think who just cheered when it seemed right), but he knew enough to say “culo” and, later, “Mala Niña.

And that was that. I should go make dinner.

I bought needles and thread for €0,75 at a dollar store today, and forgot for not the first time that butternut squash cannot be roasted like sweet potatoes for fries (I’ll buy it again soon enough, promise, and make some good proper squash lasagna maybe).

I went to Salamanca this past weekend. There will doubtless be some photographs uploaded. Just need to go through all 100+ of ‘em.

A post with some of my thoughts on internet etiquette is in the works. As are my applications to graduate school, which need to get finished. And, in fact, will get finished. Might even submit one tomorrow.

I’m going to see (musician) Micah P. Hinson tomorrow, with one of the women I work with and her friends. This will be the first time I hang out with people who are not my flatmates but who I met in Spain. I would be sad about this, except that it should be awesome, and it’s a first step.

This post is exactly as disjointed as my old journal entries used to be, only really more connected for all that. Oh LiveJournal-obsessed days, I miss you sometimes.

Actually, I’ve been thinking about this recently. So make that another post in the works: thoughts on how a[n online] journal entry gets written.

Tenemos que revolucionar nuestra comprensión óptica. Tenemos que quitarnos el velo que tenemos delante de los ojos y ver más allá del ombligo. Las perspectivas más interesantes del presente son aquellos que van desde arriba hacia abajo, desde abajo hacia arriba, y sus diagonales.

– Aleksander Rodchenko

Which is to say (translation mine): “We must revolutionize our optical understanding. We must remove the veil we have before our eyes and look beyond our navels. The most interesting perspectives of today are those than come from up to down, down to up, and their diagonals.”

Rodchenko is best known as a painter. He was part of the constructivist movement in Russia, and lived during the Russian revolution. His photography really does take to heart the quote I transcribed up there (which, I should note, was probably in French or Russian, and almost definitely not in Spanish; all of the photos were labeled in French and Spanish). This exhibition, at the Fundación Canal, north in the Plaza de Castilla, was really excellent — the best single-artist exhibition I’ve seen since I’ve been in Madrid, certainly.

You can read a bit about it (in Spanish; there are two other photos there); I’m not going to try to sum up what little I know about the guy, considering that most of it is gleaned from wikipedia. But the exhibition I can discuss. I like the Fundación Canal — they have two really interesting exhibition spaces, the one just north of the center, in an old water tower; the other is this one, in the business-heavy Plaza de Castilla, also next to a water tower. (The water towers aren’t accidental — Canal is the water-management organization for Madrid, more than 150 years old.) The Rodchenko exhibition was in the basement of this building, but was perfectly-lit, with brief and interesting (and legible!) wall-text, and actually was intriguingly-effected by the basement-ness, since one part of the gallery had beautiful brickwork encroaching from one side.

Besides the technicalities of it, the photography was also really good. I am curious to see more of his painting, but Rodchenko’s photography is really cool. The photo up top was possibly my favorite, but there were a lot of fantastic portraits, and even his landscape and building photography was intriguing — he’s not kidding about diagonals, oh no sir. All in all, I’m a fan.

When I was in Argentina, there were several autistic kids who told me I spoke bad Spanish — and I mean, to them I do. I really don’t think my Spanish is all that bad, but I think I’m probably confusing these kids somewhat when I speak to them in Spanish, especially with poor grammar. With the older kids, it’s fine, but also less necessary; they speak better English. With the infantil classes, though, it’s impossible to just speak English to them, not when you’re asking them to do things. (It’s also forcing me to re-learn command forms, the imperative voice. The commands for vosotros are very different from the commands for Usted: Decidlo and Diganlo, for “Say it!”. In English, we only have one imperative conjugation, as far as I can think. Not so in Spanish. Oh, but don’t worry; we make up for it in irregularities.)

The kids I teach seem to like me, for the most part. Some of the girls in the four-year-olds class started chanting my name when I came in, and giggled when I looked at them. The older kids are more difficult, of course, but I haven’t really had to punish them yet, so I think they appreciate that. There’s one class where I’m probably going to have to, soon. Which is too bad; I’d rather not. Part of this is just that I’m in most of my classes with another teacher, as I’ve mentioned. And part of it is that I think they are interested in me — I don’t think I would say they respect me, but they’re not sure where to place me.

I’ve got to say, though, that in some of the classes of the late primary school, it’s impossible to keep the kids quiet. They quiet down when you ask them to, but only for seconds. It’s kind of funny, but of course it’s also bloody frustrating. I don’t yell much, and I don’t want to have to. The other day, I asked students to be quiet, and clapped my hands loudly. And one of the kids, who didn’t get it, started clapping too. And immediately realized that he wasn’t supposed to, blushed, and covered his face. It was pretty hilarious. (Not too embarrassing for him; the other kids didn’t get it either.)

The thing that’s kind of fun and kind of frustrating about teaching English is trying to figure out how to do new things, but continue to reinforce the old — it’s no use if you teach tons of vocabulary but don’t go over it. The problem is trying to figure out how to make the students use their words. I make them copy down the vocabulary, and I ask them to write definitions next to it, so I think next week I’m going to go over some stuff, and ask for sentences — have them spend fifteen minutes writing sentences. Then I’ll have to correct them, but that’ll be okay; better if they’re getting feedback, no? But it’s just hard since they’re not at a level where asking questions gets complete answers. Some of these kids follow pretty well, but many don’t even do that; almost none can speak competently in English.

I think I’d like teaching a lot more if I felt like my students were learning regularly, rather than at this slow pace. This is the same problem I had with working with autism, no? That the kids are improving at this infinitesimal rate.

I guess I like thinking about this as learning about learning. And from that lookout point, this is great.