Road Rules: ¡No Sera Una Debajo Deborah!

We made it to Madrid! Danise esta dormiendo a la tiempo. After a quick intro to the city Danise decided to do it Madrid style and ordered up a siesta. But, in the early a.m. (4 to be exact) she established our first road rule - no Debbie Downers. I agreed enthusiastically and felt that could be easily acomplished. And then we met Nicole. Nicky. El Grande Debbie Downer, Debajo Deborah or for short, D.D.

D.D. is one of the ten girls staying in our hostal room. La Posada de Huertas is an international youth hostel that houses several dozens of students or cheapskates. As soon as we got to town Danise and I took it upon ourselves to chat up everyone, including the man selling us stamps who had the most adorable bilingual speach impediment. D.D., a petite Hasidic brat was not game and didn´t want to play nice with us. She was tired, irritated, curt, had no interest in learning or speaking spanish, and after five minutes of being around her I was developing spanglish curses in my head cerca Karen Walker (think Bitch-O) of Will and Grace.

But D.D. was not the only character we collided with today. It started with the trifecta of check-in procedures at Stanstead International where we interacted with three different travel agents at three different kiosks all to check our backpacks! And we thought we were traveling light. On our way through security (easy breazy) the man who surveys the x-ray scan of our luggage stopped my purse and called the attention of his partner. "What is that shape?" said the skeptic. The partner held up my new trendy waterbottle. "This alright?" It was a good laugh but I never thought trend could turn terror.

On the plane we sat next to a NY born, raised and converted Californian which was great. And after taking three metro lines seamlessly to our part of Madrid we found two Canadian students looking at the map on the street corner. Danise asked them where they were staying and as a matter of fact...the very same hostel as us!! Immediate friends we journied down calle Atocha to find our new home. We found it, and the rest of the cast of characters at check in.

Check-in was a massive group effort. D.D. was already at the counter glaring at Xavier, the French host who likes to push buttons and do it with sass. Think, "king of the castle, king of the castel" and you´ve got Xavier (X-ah-vi-ay). "Salamanca!" he shouted at Mike, a Colorado-ian student who had spent the semetser studying in...wait for it...Salamanca. "shh shh shh" he said to a young Asian man a) really only really spoke broken English and b) really only wanted a map to the city. "Relax my friend relax" he warned. D.D. and Xavier I could already tell, were not going to get on well but Danise and I decided to mess with him. We know enough Spanish to sass back!

"Estoy listo!" I hurried Xavier along with the paper-work in a 'some of us have shit to do today' smile and tone of voice. His eye-brows shot up and he laughed, "lista! not listo." He laughed in a way that made me feel like my sass had the opposite effect. I begged him to tell me what I said and he responded "You tell someone you´re listo and oooy you´ll have no problem they´ll be buying you drinks!" Annnd, apparently saying, "I´m ready" in English translates to a lusty, seductive, "come and get it, I´m ready." All that was missing was the shimmy I´d been practicing for the past four years (thanks for the lessons Lili) and I was good to go. Between that incident and my obsession with finding the translation of my new phrase "hot mess" (with which I have gotten so far as 'sucio calliente'(Thank you Christian!) which really means hot dirty...I´m singing myself a little novela here.

Xavier is a hot-mess himself, one not to underestimate because while he sure as hell has no intention of doing us any favors, he WILL play favorites. I know this because I´m pretty sure he alreayd has a soft spot for Danise and I, as illustrated by his yelling at us "what the fuck do you want?" And of course that kind of excitement always produces a response in my head-voice - high pitched and incomprehensible spazing about the fact that our luggage was locked up and to watch that he doesn´t trip over his own attitude. Men.

We hooked up with Mike (Salamanca) and went to Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofia to see some of the greats. As Danise says, it was a one-stop shop. We love art and culture but to be honost we can only do so much looking sans understanding in one hour. For example, 1880s Joan Miro, great stuff but incredibly abstract. I don´t get it! I like the look of it but, I would like to "get it" which, is probably not the point of their works. Frida Kahlo I get. Miro? Where is the inspiration? What acid was he tripping off of and where do we find it? Just kidding. But seriously, most know of Picasso´s issues but what about the other abstract artists? Thoughts?

We saw La Guernica which was well worth the trip to the Museo. It was enormous and much brighter than I had thought. Sketches of bits and pieces of the larger piece were displayed in surrounding rooms. We also saw some Dali and Rosario Velasco (whose to me, funily enough, rendition of Adam and Eve have the features of an Isralie and Sweedish couple.) That was weird. But I did like Miro the best.

We sat in the courtyard (the museum appears to be an old convent) and then chose a new way home, touring the narrow cobble stone streets with organized balconies jutting out over head. There is a slight incline to the city and a definite twist making meandering aimlessly more of an adventure than our High Holbern days. Famished, we stopped in a small grocer where Dansie bought nectar and an apple and I bought the juciest orange and a fig. Walking up calle de something Maria Danise called it as it was... "this is the life." Again, I was in agreement. Mom, the fig was delicious and yes, I washed it first...with tap water from my water bottle.

Tonight we plan to walk around, find some yummy tapas for dinner and head to the dance party! (I´m guessing placa mayor). Not sure where that is but we do know that the chance of runing into D.D. is slim to none.

Hasta Manana!
MK