About Spain: October 2007 Archives
Do they BOWL in Spain? I've got news for you. They do! But it's certainly not a popular sport NOR a popular form of recreational entertainment in Madrid. Bowling in Spanish is.... "BOWLING"! But the Spanish word for bowling or the place where you go bowling is "Bolera". Spaniards will often say, "¿Quieres ir al bowling?" ("Do you want to go bowling?") - which sounds so strange to my American ears.
Last night a Spanish buddy and I went BOWLING to a nearby bowling alley in Madrid. We go bowling about once a month and go to a couple different places. We're even MEMBERS at one of them! That shows you we're serious about our bowling. hehehe...
So we arrive at the local lanes, about a 15 minute walk from my house, and go inside. The place was recently totally renovated, top to bottom - or so you'd think, given the opportunity to do so. The inside is quite nice, new bar, new billiards area, new table-top-soccer area, new bathrooms, the works. This was our second time to this place since they'd renovated it.
I recall the first/last time we went. I was immediately impressed with its interior. Nice! I was more than a bit amused, however, to find stamped on all the balls, "BRUNSWICK USA" - which is one of the most popular bowling products companies in the United States.
Went to the bowling ball rack to choose our preferred size, weight, finger-hole sizes, and took the pick of the litter - of all runts. All were old balls, full of nicks, gashes, & scrapes. Disappointing.and took our terrible balls to our assigned lane, placed them on the ball return rack, put on our shoes, and and loosened up. First, I have to tell you that not only were the bowling balls horrible but also were the old bowling shoes with frayed laces. The ball return equipment too appeared to be from the mid-1970s and all carried the name BRUNSWICK USA on them. I'm now more and more convinced all this equipment was sent over on a slow-boat from Podunk County, USA after some bowling alley went out of business and sold off their "assets" - HA! Assets. This stuff should've been in the liability column.
Still, having BRUNSWICK USA surrounding me swept me back to when I was 10 years old and on a Saturday morning bowling team. I felt all warm and fuzzy.
Throw the first ball down the lane. Hmmm.. I swear there's a strange, alternating thumping sound from the alley as the ball reaches the pins. Must be the ball. Try another ball. Different ball - same result. Good lawd, the lane's warped close to the end! My goodness. "Could this place BE any worse?" (in my best "Chandler" voice from the popular TV series "Friends") So we change lanes only to get the same result. I look down at the end of the lanes were the pins are and see an odd-looking pair of body-less legs standing in front of my pins. Then one leg disappears. Then the other. Hmmm.. That's strange. What if I throw this ball now and those legs reappear down there? The resulting limb severing would be worse than the Normandy Beach scenes in the movie "Saving Private Ryan".
Finally we find a lane which is semi-flat! Thank goodness! Now we can enjoy ourselves with these ripped up bowling balls. Still, it's fun and I don't do half bad.
Next time we'll have to go to our REGULAR bowling alley at the Bowling Studios (see photo) in the Kinépolis complex in the Ciudad de la Imagen. There, they also have a multi-plex cinema, restaurants, and more. Thing is, you have to drive there and it's not all that close to me but the lanes, balls, and everything is new new new. THERE, we're card-carrying members and I'm looking forward to going back.
Photo at Left:
MadridMan at the "Bowling Studios" at Kinepolis - a GOOD bowling alley! - photo from April 2007 (don't pay attention to the direction of the ball - err.. I was practicing?)
At the Bowling Studios they have monthly tournaments and was even tempted to "Show these Spaniards how a REAL AMERICAN bowls!" Afterall, we invented it, didn't we? Okay, I don't think we invented but we certainly popularized it! But I never signed up for the tournament after seeing a few people practicing on lanes near me. Wow, could they bowl! My Spain-based, season-best score of 190 points would likely only embarrass me when competing with these guys who have it all down to a science with the swinging back of the leg, the right-to-left spinning of the ball as it nearly gutters to the right and then swerves back to the center 10-pin making a strike nearly every time. I'm a straight-down-the-middle kind of bowler. Nothing fancy. But I do have good aim.
But it's very enjoyable to go out bowling even though I tend to take it too seriously, too competitively. My bowling buddies all tell me this. At the Bowling Studios, LOTS of other bowling-for-fun participants in adjacent lanes are slinging the balls down the lanes with no apparent eye-hand-coordination, making lots of gutter balls, tossing the balls too high in the air and coming down with a terrible THUNK!, lots of slipping and falling over the line, and LOTS of laughter. Afterall, THAT'S what it's all about; good, clean, AMERICAN FUN - IN SPAIN!
Who'dathunk I'd ever do more bowling in Spain than in the USA? Now that's culture shock!
Last night a Spanish buddy and I went BOWLING to a nearby bowling alley in Madrid. We go bowling about once a month and go to a couple different places. We're even MEMBERS at one of them! That shows you we're serious about our bowling. hehehe...
So we arrive at the local lanes, about a 15 minute walk from my house, and go inside. The place was recently totally renovated, top to bottom - or so you'd think, given the opportunity to do so. The inside is quite nice, new bar, new billiards area, new table-top-soccer area, new bathrooms, the works. This was our second time to this place since they'd renovated it.
I recall the first/last time we went. I was immediately impressed with its interior. Nice! I was more than a bit amused, however, to find stamped on all the balls, "BRUNSWICK USA" - which is one of the most popular bowling products companies in the United States.
Went to the bowling ball rack to choose our preferred size, weight, finger-hole sizes, and took the pick of the litter - of all runts. All were old balls, full of nicks, gashes, & scrapes. Disappointing.and took our terrible balls to our assigned lane, placed them on the ball return rack, put on our shoes, and and loosened up. First, I have to tell you that not only were the bowling balls horrible but also were the old bowling shoes with frayed laces. The ball return equipment too appeared to be from the mid-1970s and all carried the name BRUNSWICK USA on them. I'm now more and more convinced all this equipment was sent over on a slow-boat from Podunk County, USA after some bowling alley went out of business and sold off their "assets" - HA! Assets. This stuff should've been in the liability column.
Still, having BRUNSWICK USA surrounding me swept me back to when I was 10 years old and on a Saturday morning bowling team. I felt all warm and fuzzy.
Throw the first ball down the lane. Hmmm.. I swear there's a strange, alternating thumping sound from the alley as the ball reaches the pins. Must be the ball. Try another ball. Different ball - same result. Good lawd, the lane's warped close to the end! My goodness. "Could this place BE any worse?" (in my best "Chandler" voice from the popular TV series "Friends") So we change lanes only to get the same result. I look down at the end of the lanes were the pins are and see an odd-looking pair of body-less legs standing in front of my pins. Then one leg disappears. Then the other. Hmmm.. That's strange. What if I throw this ball now and those legs reappear down there? The resulting limb severing would be worse than the Normandy Beach scenes in the movie "Saving Private Ryan".
Finally we find a lane which is semi-flat! Thank goodness! Now we can enjoy ourselves with these ripped up bowling balls. Still, it's fun and I don't do half bad.
Next time we'll have to go to our REGULAR bowling alley at the Bowling Studios (see photo) in the Kinépolis complex in the Ciudad de la Imagen. There, they also have a multi-plex cinema, restaurants, and more. Thing is, you have to drive there and it's not all that close to me but the lanes, balls, and everything is new new new. THERE, we're card-carrying members and I'm looking forward to going back.
Photo at Left:
MadridMan at the "Bowling Studios" at Kinepolis - a GOOD bowling alley! - photo from April 2007 (don't pay attention to the direction of the ball - err.. I was practicing?)
At the Bowling Studios they have monthly tournaments and was even tempted to "Show these Spaniards how a REAL AMERICAN bowls!" Afterall, we invented it, didn't we? Okay, I don't think we invented but we certainly popularized it! But I never signed up for the tournament after seeing a few people practicing on lanes near me. Wow, could they bowl! My Spain-based, season-best score of 190 points would likely only embarrass me when competing with these guys who have it all down to a science with the swinging back of the leg, the right-to-left spinning of the ball as it nearly gutters to the right and then swerves back to the center 10-pin making a strike nearly every time. I'm a straight-down-the-middle kind of bowler. Nothing fancy. But I do have good aim.
But it's very enjoyable to go out bowling even though I tend to take it too seriously, too competitively. My bowling buddies all tell me this. At the Bowling Studios, LOTS of other bowling-for-fun participants in adjacent lanes are slinging the balls down the lanes with no apparent eye-hand-coordination, making lots of gutter balls, tossing the balls too high in the air and coming down with a terrible THUNK!, lots of slipping and falling over the line, and LOTS of laughter. Afterall, THAT'S what it's all about; good, clean, AMERICAN FUN - IN SPAIN!
Who'dathunk I'd ever do more bowling in Spain than in the USA? Now that's culture shock!
Last Thursday night, the same night I wrote the morning entry, "Rain in Madrid", I was seated here at the computer doing the usual stuff. It was raining solidly. The window was open slightly because I like the cool air - always, even in winter. And then I heard it at about 11pm.
From what I could deduce, there was a group of 3 or 4 late-teen gypsy girls on the street below, just around the corner out of sight from my building. Undoubtedly they were sheltered under an awning safe from the rain. 2 or 3 of them were all being "palmeras" while one sang.
"Palmeras" are the people whom clap in rapid succession at flamenco shows. One person claps the on-beat while the other claps the off-beat, the two varying the rhythm of the accompaniment by varying the rhythm of their clapping.
The precision of the rapid clapping, each of the songs lasting only about 30 seconds while the other woman sang, was truly impressive. The impromptu street concert lasted nearly an hour, off and on, and they'd chatter and laugh between each one.
I went to my balcony several times when they started a new "song" and got wet but I didn't care much. I was there listening, live, to Spanish gypsies, whom were clearly enjoying themselves as they could, as they do. It was certainly not flamenco, nor was it professional, but it was IMPRESSIVE and obviously their form entertainment on this rainy Thursday night.
The entertainment was intended for them but it was me whom felt entertained most. I wondered if the Spanish neighbors felt the same. I doubted it, though. They were likely more annoyed than entertained since they already have their "feelings" towards gypsies ingrained since birth and I'm just a permanent tourist, a foreigner whom does not have these little jewels of life given to him everyday. If only I'd lived across the street and could watch from my window to enjoy - and maybe video - this precious moment.
My desire was to get dressed and go down to the street and watch, listen, and experience this moment with them, talk to them. But I thought better of it. This entertainment was for THEM - not for non-gypsies - and definitely not for "rich tourists" whom could be paying for such things at Café de Chinitas instead of getting a free show on the sidewalk.
When living in a foreign land everything's new, fresh, and exciting to you. You see things and hear things other people mention in conversation. But now you're here, seeing things with your own eyes, hearing things with your own ears, and having feelings you've never experienced before. Once-dormant parts of your brain are now alive and electric, absorbing the stimuli.
These are just a few of the many joyous things about living abroad. If everyone could have the opportunity their lives would be changed forever. Their minds would be open to new ideas, new ways of seeing the same things, new ways of interacting with others not of your own culture, and most importantly, a fresh, more objective view of the world in which we live. Afterall, it's not my planet. It's OUR planet. Let's share.
From what I could deduce, there was a group of 3 or 4 late-teen gypsy girls on the street below, just around the corner out of sight from my building. Undoubtedly they were sheltered under an awning safe from the rain. 2 or 3 of them were all being "palmeras" while one sang.
"Palmeras" are the people whom clap in rapid succession at flamenco shows. One person claps the on-beat while the other claps the off-beat, the two varying the rhythm of the accompaniment by varying the rhythm of their clapping.
The precision of the rapid clapping, each of the songs lasting only about 30 seconds while the other woman sang, was truly impressive. The impromptu street concert lasted nearly an hour, off and on, and they'd chatter and laugh between each one.
I went to my balcony several times when they started a new "song" and got wet but I didn't care much. I was there listening, live, to Spanish gypsies, whom were clearly enjoying themselves as they could, as they do. It was certainly not flamenco, nor was it professional, but it was IMPRESSIVE and obviously their form entertainment on this rainy Thursday night.
The entertainment was intended for them but it was me whom felt entertained most. I wondered if the Spanish neighbors felt the same. I doubted it, though. They were likely more annoyed than entertained since they already have their "feelings" towards gypsies ingrained since birth and I'm just a permanent tourist, a foreigner whom does not have these little jewels of life given to him everyday. If only I'd lived across the street and could watch from my window to enjoy - and maybe video - this precious moment.
My desire was to get dressed and go down to the street and watch, listen, and experience this moment with them, talk to them. But I thought better of it. This entertainment was for THEM - not for non-gypsies - and definitely not for "rich tourists" whom could be paying for such things at Café de Chinitas instead of getting a free show on the sidewalk.
When living in a foreign land everything's new, fresh, and exciting to you. You see things and hear things other people mention in conversation. But now you're here, seeing things with your own eyes, hearing things with your own ears, and having feelings you've never experienced before. Once-dormant parts of your brain are now alive and electric, absorbing the stimuli.
These are just a few of the many joyous things about living abroad. If everyone could have the opportunity their lives would be changed forever. Their minds would be open to new ideas, new ways of seeing the same things, new ways of interacting with others not of your own culture, and most importantly, a fresh, more objective view of the world in which we live. Afterall, it's not my planet. It's OUR planet. Let's share.
Blogarama
