God Bless Fried Chicken, Peanut Butter, and Punctuality!!

Thanks to Roman (a guy I had met in Berlin), I spent a fabulous last day galavanting about the city I have come to love so much. Seeing as he had a day-long layover in Madrid on his way home from vacationing in Portugal AND had never seen the city before, I was thrilled when he asked me to be his personal tour guide. We met in the Plaza at 12 and made our first stop at Palacio Real and strolled through the gardens of La Plaza Oriente before finally settling down at a cafe for his first (and my last) menu del dia.

Craving siestas in typical Spanish fashion, we rolled ourselves down side streets and alley ways, up Gran Via, passing Plaza de Santo Domingo and Puerta de Alcala until finally parking (pun intended) ourselves in Retiro Park. The intensely direct Madrileño heat shocked the Berliner, making him especially anxious to find a shady escape. I read "A Painted House" while Roman wrote postcards and napped.

Feeling refreshed and ready to brave the streets once again, we decided to venture over to Real Madrid's Santiago Bernabéu Stadium. A new site even for me, and Roman the soccer buff that he is, this was the perfect destination. Not surprisingly, we discovered that the ticket counter advertised 16-euro tours as the sole means of access. Upon further pressing, however, the saleslady offered an alternate view of the field from the nearby Cafe Real, but only as sort of an after thought. Much preferring the later option of the two, we turned the corner, walked up the stairs, and stopped dead to this view:

no bigs

SO much better than any expensive tour, we ordered drinks, flashed a series of shots in disbelief, made friends with the waiters, toasted our good fortune, and soaked in another incredible "this is my life" moments.

Saying goodbye to my home in Boadilla was pretty anticlimactic, but maybe it's better this way. The last thing I said to neighbors, Antonio the gardner, extended Mestre family, and the lifeguard was "hasta luego" (see ya later), although I kind of doubt I'll actually see any of them ever again. I ate a late dinner of pisto (like thick, chunky gazpacho) with Alberto and Solete in front of the TV, while the kiddos played outside with neighborhood friends.

As I tried to pack up my life and more into two suitcases, the kids came down one at a time to say goodbye. I gave one letter to the kids (complete with stickers and bat fliers) and one to Solete and Alberto. Solete and I stood in the basement between the laundry room and my bedroom talking for a long time about the summer, before exchanging Spanish kisses, a hug, and heading up to bed. I may have caught one hour of sleep that night.

No doubt spending this summer in Madrid was the hardest thing I've ever had to do for a variety of reasons. I learned so much about myself, parenthood, Spanish culture, and what it means to serve and love selflessly, unconditionally, and without expecting anything in return. I've really only scratched the surface of these hard lessons and I'm sure to struggle with them the rest of my life. Being stripped of all the normal distractions I have at home and school turned out to be a huge blessing in the lonely and discouraging times since I had nowhere to go but to the Lord. This made it all well worth it to me. Recognizing this as the hardest thing I've ever had to do just means I've had a pretty sweet life I guess.

A couple bad movies, some weird airplane food, and an unsatisfactory nap later, I was back home. I couldn't help my stupid ear-to-ear smile at the "Welcome to the United States of America" sign at Customs. Leaving baggage, I was greeted by beaming parents, balloons, and a beautiful bouquet of flowers was waiting for me in my room at home.

Mom made me a fried chicken dinner with my favorite spinach and strawberry salad and black bottom cupcakes for dessert. The US is so easy. I'm not constantly being misunderstood, can walk around the house barefoot, and feel very loved here. I'm ecstatic to be home with all family and friends and without being responsible for anyone but myself. I'll head back to Harrisonburg in one week and start classes in two...I guess real life had to begin sometime.

Mad about the 'Manc

Back "home" in Madrid, five letters and two packages from the States were waiting for me in mailbox #37...the best!! The Mestre fam was still on vacation, but it was kind of nice having the house to my self for a couple of days to unpack and repack, do laundry, spend time in the city, at the pool, read, and catch up on sleep...sans child duties. Friday, I hopped on the bus to spend my last weekend in Spain (for now, anyways) in my beloved Salamanca.

Since madre and fam spend July and August in their country home in La Rad, I stayed in my friend Cesar's apartment.

view from Cesar's balcony

Lucky for me, Cesar is the most OCD guy I’ve ever met so I knew I’d have clean sheets and towel. An added bonus was that I would be staying in the same place where Alex, Colleen, and I had enjoyed our first authentic Spanish pre-game...AND I was sleeping in Edu’s old room (SUPERGUAY!!!!) Ces cooked every meal for me and refused to let me do anything...even trying to pour my own water was a struggle at times. Only having brought him a small offering of homemade brownies was pretty embarrassing.

If ever I'm sad, I'm pulling out this picture...so rich!

After lunch and siestas had by all, Edu (who had just returned from a year in Germany) and his girlfriend Silvia came over and we spent over three hours catching up. Later on, Edu and Silvia came back over to pre-game...not leaving the apartment until 3:30am (this is what I mean by authentic Spanish pre-game). We spent the wee morning hours at Imprenta and Atahualpa and walked home to the sun coming up at 7:15 just like old times.

me and my chicos :)

Not waking up until the American lunch hour, I made my way to the bus station to change my ticket on account of Sunday's “huelga” (strike). After the Avanza employee assured me that my ticket for Madrid was still valid, I called madre to see if there was a bus from Salamanca to La Rad...maybe I could come eat Sunday lunch with them? When I told her I about my time constraint with my ticket back to Madrid on Sunday evening, she flipped----hija, that's not enough time! Just as before, madre made me change my bus ticket back to Madrid. As I headed BACK to the bus station, I tried hard not to look like a crazy woman laughing to myself in public.

Back at Cesar's for lunch and a much-needed siesta, I went for a long walk around La Plaza and the university, taking advantage of my last opportunity to shop with rebajas prices. Honestly though, it's probably a good thing I’m leaving so soon...not only do I have a problem, but all these purchases will have to make it back in my suitcase somehow.

On my way back to Cesar's, I picked up fruit at Carrefour in attempts to be a semi-helpful guest. Edu and Silvia came over again after dinner and we began the evening the same as the previous: pregame until 3:30, then Imprenta.

Edu, me, Silvia, Cesar

Afterwards, we hit a new bar for me called Pipers and walked home in the broad daylight around 8am:

Turning to say goodbye, I gave Edu a huge hug and started to tear up, which was really embarrassing considering no one else seemed as emotional as the stupid American girl.

Skipping out on another good nights sleep, I relished my two-hour nap before leaving to pick up pastries to bring to madre. I was minding my own business and scarfing down a breakfast danish on the street corner waiting for Isa to pick me up when a 40-something-year-old gentleman approaches me and asks if I am Marisol from blah-di-blah city? I really thought “no” would kind of wrap things up and he'd be on his way, but this soon evolved into a 15 minute convo about his life dream to travel to NY and get involved in the booming film business, etc. When he then asked me if I wanted to grab a coffee, I was thankful to have the "I have to meet a friend" excuse -- (again, we’re wrapping up here, right?) No. This led to him asking me if I had a Spanish phone-- and since I’m the worst liar on the face of the planet--- I found myself looking up my number and giving him the digits so that the next time I’m in Spain we can meet up….que vaaaa (yeah right).

In hopes to grab a coffee (by myself) at café del arte, I saw it was closed...oh Sundays in Spain! I turned to leave but when I saw the metal gate lifting halfway I waited to see if it would be opening after all. Next, my bartender emerged in the doorway. We made eye contact and he beckoned me inside for a coffee. When no lights or anything were being turned on and he made no effort to put on an apron or uniform of any kind, I realized they wouldn't be opening after all…I was just an exception J We talked for a while, exchanged emails, Spanish kissed and said bye until the next time.

By that time, Isa and Escoli were already waiting for me in front of my old apartment and we made the 20-minute drive to La Rad. Once there, I met many extended family members on the back porch. Didn't realize I was going to a family reunion! Their house is spacious and lovely...I now understand why they cherish their vacation time here so much.

Informing madre of my revised ticket back to Madrid, I found out that she had been thinking that I'd be staying with them until the next weekend. I guess I had told her that I had to go back on Saturday, but maybe had failed to mention "back to the STATES". She was so disappointed to find out I would only be there one night, saying she had been so excited about me spending the week with them. Oh my sweet sweet Ascence!

Escoli and I left soon after to walk one of her aunts home one street over. All the way, I awkwardly listened to the aunt talk about how depressing life is when you're old. Very uncharacteristic of me, I literally couldn't think of even one word to say. We took a slight detour on our way back and stopped by a local bar where Escoli treated me to a pinxot (small snack, like personal-sized tapas) of croquetas and canas (small beer). Back at the house, we changed into our bathing suits and hit the pool. Instead of concrete, the pool was surrounded by lush green grass and trees.

Lunch was madre's famous paella. Please for a moment try to imagine me sitting around a table feasting with eight raucous Spanish senior citizens. Seeing as I was an obvious foreigner and (besides Isa) the youngest by at least 50 years, I was given way too much attention and worse, often struggled to understand what they said. One of madre's sisters-in-laws even offered me her 35-year-old son's (who conveniently lived down the road) hand in marriage...still not sure how I got out of that one...

the largest paella known to mankind

As we were cleaning our plates of paella, madre urged us to eat up since she hadn't prepared a second course. This of course turned out to be one sick joke. Before I knew what was happening, Isa and Escoli were bringing out generous wedges of watermelon and honeydew, followed by ice-cream cake and a complimentary super strong liquor (they all thought it was HILARIOUS I couldn’t keep it down). But I'm still not finished. Next was cake Isa had brought back from her time in Galicia….and then of course my stupid pastries, which I had to refuse no fewer than seventeen times. This is so gross just writing about it gives me the gag reflex. I don't want to talk about this anymore.

In pain from lunch and only 12 hours of sleep total in the last 3 days, I retreated upstairs for a powerful nap, even sleeping through “las burras” (what Ascencion's sister secretly said to me of her obnoxious sisters-in-law) yelling curses during their massive card game on the front porch.

Escoli was anxious for a little escape and offered to take me to visit Jesus (my study abroad coordinator) and his family in their chalet nearby. On our way there, we met more of Escoli's extended family (their whole clan seems to be in La Rad!), who within five minutes of meeting had already invited me to come stay in their houses whenever I wanted.

Laura, me, Jesus, Elena

It was great seeing Jesus and we had a great time catching up and sharing updates about the program. As we turned to leave though, little Laura (Jesus' five-year-old daughter) started crying because we wouldn’t be going to the pool with her. So sad.

Almost as soon as Escoli and I had returned from our walk, people began filing out all at once. I gave Escoli a huge hug and Spanish kissed the others goodbye...until the next time.

Escoli and I

I sat on the porch with Ascencion’s older sister (one of her 10 siblings!) enjoying the cool evening air while she recited to me old monologues and prayers and told me funny stories from her childhood. What a fun sweet lady, I loved her! Soon, madre brought out fruit, cheese, bread, more pastries (!!!), and made me my favorite tortilla francesa just like she does (although I really could have survived on the day’s caloric intake for at least the next week).

Way too excited for bedtime, I hit the hay early and slept like a baby until late morning…it’s gonna take me a while to recooperate from two nights of zero sleep. I downed a quick breakfast with madre and her sister and as I left for Sal with Luis and Isa, madre handed me a bag lunch she had prepared for me. I told her I loved her and I’d see her again soon! I'm just praying that her health holds up since the poor woman now walks with a limp :(

All in all, this was a much better visit to Salamanca than the last time because I wasn’t so freaking nostalgic about every little thing. Instead, I was able to relax a bit and didn’t feel like I had to jam pack the sentimental activities as before...

Now I'm back in Madrid for my final three days of work. Home on Saturday!!!!!!

Tschus, Hamburg!

Monday, I relished my last day in Germany spending it in the city with Rudolf and Molly. First stop was the harbor for a boat ride on the Elbe River.

At Rudolf's designated point, we hopped off and bought cherries from a fruit stand. The three of us sat on a bench in the shade lining the water, tossing our cherry pits and stems behind us...another "this is my life" moments. We walked along the water past beautiful houses...

...and beachy shores, stopping for lunch at an outdoor cafe on the water to try herring for the first time. Loved it! But then again when it comes to food, there isn't much I'll say "no thank you" to.

Back on the bus, we headed to the region of Blankenese (literally translates as "shiny nose"). There, we sipped cappuccinos, enjoyed a breathtaking view of the water...

...and strolled around what reminded me a lot of Granada with stacked white houses on coastal cliffs.

Our final destination was to Jo and Torben's apartment, where we ate a dinner of brown bread with assorted cheeses and meats. We said goodbye and Jo made me a nannying job offer for next summer in Hamburg. Jo similarly offered me baby Julia's nannying services for my children in fifteen years or so. Looks like my family planning was just given a timeline!