General: October 2008 Archives
The Spanish newspaper, El País, ran an article HERE (in Spanish) today on their website. Below you have the English-language translation of the same article:
My only wonder is WHY didn't President Bush address this message to President Zapatero as well? Doesn't Zapatero rule the country and not the King of Spain? It almost sounds like Bush still doesn't want to talk to him.
Let's all hope the GOVERNMENTS of the USA and Spain can get along a bit better after the new US President is elected - no matter who wins on Novermber 2, 2008.
Two days before Spain celebrates its Día de la Hispanidad, a tribute to Columbus´arrival in the Americas, US President George W. Bush sent King Juan Carlos a Message extolling the "strong and lasting friendship" between both nations.
The message, disseminated on the US Embassy website, read: "Spain remains a vital ally of the United States, and we look forward to further strengthening our relations.
"In the spirit of friendship and admiration from the American people, I wish to congratulate you and the people of Spain as you celebrate la Fiesta Nacional de España on October 12. The United States also observes this day as a National Holiday as we remember the historic importance of the arrival of Christopher Columbus to the Americas," states the message.
In 2004 and 2005, there was no US representation in protest over the fact that José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero, then opposition leader, refused to stand as the American flag went by, as a sign of his rejection of the Iraq war.
Bilateral relations have been coll since Prime Minister Zapatero pulled Spanish troops from Iraq on taking office in 2004.
My only wonder is WHY didn't President Bush address this message to President Zapatero as well? Doesn't Zapatero rule the country and not the King of Spain? It almost sounds like Bush still doesn't want to talk to him.
Let's all hope the GOVERNMENTS of the USA and Spain can get along a bit better after the new US President is elected - no matter who wins on Novermber 2, 2008.
I realize I'm risking offending some Spaniards (and maybe I'm actually offending EVERYONE!) for writing today's blog entry. No one wants to appear "uncouth". But that fact is, SOME PEOPLE DO PEE IN PUBLIC.Surely it happens throughout the world - even in the USA. And when "nature calls" you've got to answer that call. Sometimes there are no public restrooms or bars to relieve oneself. But come on, people! Make SOME effort to find someplace!
Don't think that everyone is pissing on the street in Madrid just because of what I'm writing now because they don't. I've been living here long enough to see many many things, things which I try not to judge but sometimes it's hard.
PHOTO AT RIGHT: a highly portable and very public urinal in Amsterdam as found on this flicker page. If you look closely (but not TOO closely) you can see the pee level is nearly at the spilling point! This is an example of a truly advanced civilization - or is it?
Yesterday I was walking home from the gym along a busy 4-lane road and happen to see an odd sight. There was a taxi parked on the street next to a wooded park. About 5 yards from the taxi was presumably the taxi driver. There he was in all his splendor, standing behind (only) hip-high bushes, facing away from traffic, with his hands on his hips. He was just standing there, apparently surveying the landscape. "Hmmm.. That's odd," I thought. And then it hit me. The taxi driver turned to look at me for a good 2 seconds until I turned my head away. About 2 seconds later I turned back to see his eyes diverted "downward", his hands came off his hips to attend to "the business at hand", his knees bent, his hips shifted, and he was walking back towards his taxi. He certainly didn't seem to try to hide himself much. There were plenty of trees behind which he could've stood - or maybe the trees were too narrow. Sure, there were no bars in the IMMEDIATE vicinity but come on!
Another day, also in daylight here in Madrid, I was a passenger in a car. I noticed a large, tall truck pulled to the side of the street, door open, and could only see a pair of legs below the door with feet planted firmly on the asphalt below. I worried that a passing car might hit the door and injure the man - that's what first caught my attention. But as we drew closer I could see a faint stream of liquid coming from behind the door. AHA! But again, COME ON!
One night last summer, maybe at 2am or so, I heard some loud voices on the street below my window (I live on the fourth floor - that's the FIFTH floor in USA terms) so I poked my head out to see what was going on. It was just a small group of youths in their 20s, presumably coming back from a night on the town. Then one of the girls looked left, then right, then said something to her girlfriend with a giggle and walked a few meters away from the group, squatted down behind a parked car - and there she went - and went and went. This took place on a somewhat steep grade so imagine how the sparkling liquid appeared under the streetlights as it traveled downhill. Nice. (UGH!)
The worst is being around ANY football/soccer stadium just before the match gets started. On more than one occasion I was walking beside the Vicente Calderon soccer stadium (home to the Atlético de Madrid team) along the Manzanares River about an hour or two before game time. There were the usual hoards of football fans, all wearing their colors, all drinking from 1 Liter bottles of beer, all singing football songs and joking around. And, of course, a few dozen men and boys facing the wall and answer that call of nature. Why? Mainly because there are no public urinals or toilets outside of the stadium and it's frowned upon to enter bars just to use the restroom. So imagine the scene, I'm walking past a few dozen men, just inches from their backs, and trying to avoid the puddles surrounding their feet on the sidewalk. Nice. (BLAH!) I made some comment regarding my surprise and disgust to a couple Spaniards with whom I was walking and they seemed surprised that such a thing upset me, saying something like, "Well, when you've gotta go, you've gotta go."
And probably half a dozen times I've seen small boys and even girls, usually toddlers, with their pants down around their ankles, bare bottoms - AND FRONTS - exposed to the world, happily releasing nature's fluid against a tree, next to trash cans, between parked cars, or on walls - right in downtown Madrid in plain daylight with pedestrians and cars passing all the while. Their parents don't usually appear uncomfortable but sometimes they do. I, not being a father, don't really know what it's like having a child who has to pee RIGHT NOW! I also imagine that most people see this and don't think anything of it. In fact, it's rather cute in some respects, but it's not something you see where I come from.Most adults are able to control themselves when the urge to urinate strikes them but some do not. Does this make them disgusting? Does this make them animals? Does this make them bad people? Of course not. But there are "norms" and there are "norms". These "norms", being observed to a greater or lesser degree, is what differentiates us as societies and we cannot be quick to judge one society or culture as better or worse - simply different.
Pissing in public puts people's personalities in plain perception. (or something like that)
There's almost nothing that makes me more nervous than speaking to someone in Spanish on the telephone. And worse yet, placing orders or making appointments by telephone when I'm initiating the call.
Of course, when your phone rings it's a surprise and you don't have time to be nervous so you pick up the phone and start in directly. But when you HAVE to make the call yourself, not knowing the person to whom you're calling, and speaking on a topic which you've possibly never discussed before - IN SPANISH - well, it's terrible.
For a few months now I've been a member of a wine club here in Spain, called "Vinoselección Club de Vinos". While they're not giving me any benefit for mentioning their name here I will because I like their product. It's a monthly wine club where they offer you a box of a particular wine, usually red, at a very good price. Different months offer different kinds of wines. Some are Rioja, some are Ribera del Duero, etcetera, etcetera. It's a good way to get to know different kinds of Spanish wines and different wine producers and the prices are always very good, usually about 40 Euros per month for a box of 3 or 4 bottles of wine. And when you become a "socio", they send you, for free, a very cool mechanical cork-opener. And maybe best yet, while you can order them online (which I've yet to do), you can order them by phone, give your member number, and they send it directly to your home and you pay upon delivery.
My member number was lost/misplaced shortly after I got my membership information for the wine club. Without that, I can't/couldn't order wines through their website - which I always prefer for reasons I'm about to explain.
So without the member number, I have to call by telephone, give my full name, they look up my account, and I make my order. UNTIL NOW, a Spanish friend has always, kindly made this call for me. Bu this time was different. My usual "Spanish suspects" were all busy and it's the end of the term for the monthly wine selection so I had to make a choice; a) re-register online, b) ask a neighbor to make the call for me, or c) make the friggin' call myself and quit being a wimp!
I chose "C" - but didn't make the choice easily. I'd spent about 2 days whining and waining, procrastinating and rationalizing. UNTIL TODAY. And today I didn't take it easily either. I delayed the call at least 3 hours because I had "more important things to do." Uh-huh.
Having gone to the restroom, brushed my teeth, took a sip of water, and simultaneously grabbed the phone with one hand and the monthly wine description with the other. DIAL THE PHONE!!! And I did. I was anxious. Oh god. Oh god. "What if I don't understand them? What if they don't understand me? What if they have a strong accent? What if I can't think of the words?"
They answered. My 2 days of anxiety had passed in a matter of 60 seconds. Done.
Funny thing is, as with most things we delay for reasons of nerves, it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. In fact, just the opposite. I understood EVERY word the Spanish woman said, understood every question, she understood my order, and she understood my request to be given my member number. She verified my address and it was done. Over. Order placed and finished in 60 seconds. Wow. That's that.
It was at this moment that the anxiety was replaced first by relief. But soon after, relief was replaced by utter embarrassment for having slaved over the agony of making the call in the first place.
Events like these not only test our resolve as humans but also our level of understanding of a foreign language. Sure, 60 seconds doesn't say whether or not we're fluent in "X" language but it certainly is a good measure. With every "event" such as this one you, that is WE gain confidence in ourselves in our foreign environments. WE gain confidence speaking and being understood in a foreign language. And also, WE gain acceptance from those natives all around us and helps to become more assimilated. It's a slow process but we grow a little more because every new day is a challenge.
And when you complete such a task you say, "Hey! I DID IT!! I REALLY DID IT!" We almost feel the same as when we started playing baseball as a child and, for the first time, hit the ball solidly.
What sends me into a spiral of panic is when I confidently ask a relatively simple question to someone at the store or on the street and they krinkle up their face and reply, "¿Qué?"
"Oh god......."
Of course, when your phone rings it's a surprise and you don't have time to be nervous so you pick up the phone and start in directly. But when you HAVE to make the call yourself, not knowing the person to whom you're calling, and speaking on a topic which you've possibly never discussed before - IN SPANISH - well, it's terrible.
For a few months now I've been a member of a wine club here in Spain, called "Vinoselección Club de Vinos". While they're not giving me any benefit for mentioning their name here I will because I like their product. It's a monthly wine club where they offer you a box of a particular wine, usually red, at a very good price. Different months offer different kinds of wines. Some are Rioja, some are Ribera del Duero, etcetera, etcetera. It's a good way to get to know different kinds of Spanish wines and different wine producers and the prices are always very good, usually about 40 Euros per month for a box of 3 or 4 bottles of wine. And when you become a "socio", they send you, for free, a very cool mechanical cork-opener. And maybe best yet, while you can order them online (which I've yet to do), you can order them by phone, give your member number, and they send it directly to your home and you pay upon delivery.
My member number was lost/misplaced shortly after I got my membership information for the wine club. Without that, I can't/couldn't order wines through their website - which I always prefer for reasons I'm about to explain.
So without the member number, I have to call by telephone, give my full name, they look up my account, and I make my order. UNTIL NOW, a Spanish friend has always, kindly made this call for me. Bu this time was different. My usual "Spanish suspects" were all busy and it's the end of the term for the monthly wine selection so I had to make a choice; a) re-register online, b) ask a neighbor to make the call for me, or c) make the friggin' call myself and quit being a wimp!
I chose "C" - but didn't make the choice easily. I'd spent about 2 days whining and waining, procrastinating and rationalizing. UNTIL TODAY. And today I didn't take it easily either. I delayed the call at least 3 hours because I had "more important things to do." Uh-huh.
Having gone to the restroom, brushed my teeth, took a sip of water, and simultaneously grabbed the phone with one hand and the monthly wine description with the other. DIAL THE PHONE!!! And I did. I was anxious. Oh god. Oh god. "What if I don't understand them? What if they don't understand me? What if they have a strong accent? What if I can't think of the words?"
They answered. My 2 days of anxiety had passed in a matter of 60 seconds. Done.
Funny thing is, as with most things we delay for reasons of nerves, it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. In fact, just the opposite. I understood EVERY word the Spanish woman said, understood every question, she understood my order, and she understood my request to be given my member number. She verified my address and it was done. Over. Order placed and finished in 60 seconds. Wow. That's that.
It was at this moment that the anxiety was replaced first by relief. But soon after, relief was replaced by utter embarrassment for having slaved over the agony of making the call in the first place.
Events like these not only test our resolve as humans but also our level of understanding of a foreign language. Sure, 60 seconds doesn't say whether or not we're fluent in "X" language but it certainly is a good measure. With every "event" such as this one you, that is WE gain confidence in ourselves in our foreign environments. WE gain confidence speaking and being understood in a foreign language. And also, WE gain acceptance from those natives all around us and helps to become more assimilated. It's a slow process but we grow a little more because every new day is a challenge.
And when you complete such a task you say, "Hey! I DID IT!! I REALLY DID IT!" We almost feel the same as when we started playing baseball as a child and, for the first time, hit the ball solidly.
What sends me into a spiral of panic is when I confidently ask a relatively simple question to someone at the store or on the street and they krinkle up their face and reply, "¿Qué?"
"Oh god......."
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