On the street where I live

Tonight I met my neighbors.

As Anna and I walked home tonight there was a man who had collapsed outside the door to our building. Blood trickled into the cracks between the granite tiles that make up our sidewalk, and pedestrians were trying to rouse him. Once in my bedroom, I peered down from my window and looked right into his eyes and heard his slurred assertions. It spooked me a little, but also reassured me that strangers do stop and help. About six people with cell phones huddled around the older gentleman.

Calle Aguila is narrow, like most old European streets, and my window looks out onto the terraces of the building across the street. My neighbors and I leaned out our windows and stood watch as the police spoke to the man and looked at his identification. An older woman almost directly across from my window leaned on her railing as her cat’s silhouette delicately cleaned a paw. A young couple below her stood on separate terraces and stole meaningful looks and short conversation. Three older women in house dresses from the building next door whispered to each other as their soft bodies smooshed against one another on the tiny terrace above me. The family on ground level just down the street crowded in the light from their doorway, the smallest children already put to bed.

From my view directly above, I could see a set of panpipes lying on the roof of the car parked beside his body. This and the Bono (month long Metro Pass that includes photo ID) that the police were passing around led me to believe that he might be a one of the men I see every day playing his pipes in the tunnels and trains of the Metro. I felt a little guilty gawking, but the entire procedure was strangely fascinating.

We all gratefully watched him walk to the ambulance, an EMT gripping his collar tightly for stability. Blood still stains the sidewalk, but it was from his nose, thank heavens. Now music is playing softly in one of the bars or maybe another piso—a quiet twanging guitar. What a way to end the weekend.

Tonight a few of us went to the Omani Embassy Concert--full of colorful music and dancing. I dressed up, after having a peaceful siesta. My new hairstyle is practical and attractive, which is perfect for school. Hooray! Oh, and the picture of the Calle Aguila (my street) was taken from the window of my room.

The Images Below

The pictures below illustrate my first week in Madrid. The aerial shots were taken from the roof of the hotel where we stayed. The pool garden on the roof was cool and quiet--a perfect respite from the crazy hot city below. We would come home from apartment hunts and take a frigid dip in the pool and stare under our sunglasses at the many different speedo-like trunks moseying by our recliners.

I also took some pictures of one of our delicious tapas dinners. The plate has the remains of octopus, vegetables, jamon, and croquettes. The girl in the picture (that isn't me) is my new roommate, Ana, who has been so generous and kind to me.

Well, if I can fix my newly broken camera, I should have more pictures soon.

Love-love!

First Week Pictures

Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk (and lots of parentheses)

Howdy again, friends. I'm sitting here in my cozy room looking out the window a the terraces across the street, listening to Rufus Wainwright and watching the sky turn silky as the sun goes down. My room smells a little stale, a mixture of old cigarette stains and the antique smell of old things. But the cheerful colors of my quilt, curtains, and walls makes my room feel like home already. This is my fourth night here on Calle Aguila and already I feel as though I've been here a month.

My barrio is La Latina, described by our landlady as very typical Madrid. Winding streets with little old churches around every corner, a huge market, and families. It's close to everything, except the school where I work. Unfortunately those of us who live in La Latina have a 45 minute commute with three trains and a ten minute walk up a steep hill (both ways in the snow....) but there is usually a posse of us traveling together in the morning. Hopefully the school bus that brings the students starting in September cuts down our time significantly.

Last night I cooked dinner for my roommate, Ana, and another fellow ASM-er and resident of La Latina, Megan. No dinner in Madrid is complete without green olives to start and fresh bread. I made eggplant pasta (my most recent specialty) and we had some incredibly good wine. We ate slowly in my tiny room, chatting until nearly 11pm--a typical late night feast. Mmmmm.... my first home cooked meal in Madrid! I love how the flavors of the olives, the oil, and the wine combine to feel so simple and yet so luxurious.

Though the olives and the alcohol are incredible and the food is pretty good, I must admit my relief to be cooking my own meals. I am sick to death of pig! Pork is the national meat. Spaniards eat pork like they have a personal vendetta against all swine. Shop walls drip with cured ham legs and even the ensalada chino (chinese salad--I'm practicing) at the Chinese restaurant this afternoon had julienned ham. Salty ham, sweet ham, delicious ham, disgusting ham, ham, ham, ham! And no pork chops to be found as of yet. Croquettes, delicious breaded and fried mashed potatoes (they look like jalepeno poppers), even have chunks of ham slipped in on the sly half of the time. Sigh....

Melissa and Joseph, my lovely cousin couple, had me to dinner Monday night. Melissa made my favorite Spanish meal yet: gazpacho, hard peppered cheese, and spicy mushrooms. My love for gazpacho grows every day. Melissa and Joseph live about a fifteen minute walk away in a lovely apartment with a patio. Sitting out on the patio as the heat of the day slowly faded was such a peaceful way to spend the evening.

Melissa and Joseph arrived back in Madrid after I'd been in town about a week. It was surprising how strange it was to see them. It's been so long since I've seen one of Melissa's homes and I've never seen Joseph and Melissa together in their every day life. I feel very honored and very lucky to be a part of their world here--and very appreciative of the unconditional love and affection they express. I'm glad I had the week here without them to prove to myself that I can be adventurous without my family, but I am so excited to know each of them better, to see how they've evolved in their life here.

I've made many friends so far; our group of new staff has bonded and proved to be very loyal and supportive. Every night I've had some little get-together or event to distract from any culture shock or small task that I should be doing. Though everything is still so new, I feel like the friendships I've made will branch, sustain, and grow this year. I even connected with two native Spanish speakers: Elvi and Maribel. Elvi is from the Dominian Republic and Maribel is from Peru. They work here in Madrid and have agreed to intercambio with my friend Andrew and me. We will meet up every now and then and they'll practice English while we practice our Spanish. Our first intercambio we met at Retiro, a beautiful and peaceful park East of La Latina. It may well be my new favorite spot in Madrid--full of trees! And a lake where you can rent a cute blue rowboat. On Sundays there are drum circles and gobs of people with their families. It's the great-great-grandmother of Point Defiance Park, Central Park, and Golden Gate Park. The wide lanes of the park intersect with elaborate fountains and sculptures. Basically, it's Jamie Heaven.

Well, dears, the sky has turned that electric blue of dusk. It's nearly nine thirty and it is just now getting dark, I love that! Appropriately, Nick Drake is singing about the sun going down and "no hello and no good-bye." And so I leave you with no good-bye, but just

Love.

Boston, Boston, Concord, Boston...

Hello there, folks. It's been a while since I left Boston but I've been so incredibly busy that this is the first afternoon I've had to chill and get some things done internet-wise. Boston was beautiful, full of things to do, and it was so wonderful to spend time with Kent again. Kent is one of those people who is always fascinating to talk to, gracious, and full of interesting stories and information. I also enjoyed meeting his wonderful girlfriend, Claire. Also pictured here is Karen, one of my favorite people, who I haven't seen in a long, long while. We had an incredible brunch and a great conversation. Oh, long lost friends! How good it is to see you again!

The first two days of Boston I was so exhausted and crazed I didn't bring my camera along on our long walks along the Freedom Trail and to the ArtMuseum, but trust me, it was awesome. The third day Kent and I ventured to Concord, the hometown of Louisa May Alcott, Ralf Waldo Emerson,


Hemmingway, and various and sundry patriots and progressive thinkers. We walked the cemetery and ate delicious cheese. On our way back to the train we endured a torrential downpour that delighted me but chilled us to the core. The last picture is of Logan Airport's finest gate, the one I flew out of....

Anyway, I apologize for the disorganized nature of this entry, I'll post Madrid photos and reorganize sometime in the next few days. Love-love!

Happy Sad Fun Stress

Well, the time is creeping up on me. Tonight I went to see Mama Mia with the parents to de-stress a bit. It worked, I think.... Yesterday we had an impromptu wienie roast at Boulevard Park (previously known as my living room) and it was a beautiful stormy day. Mmm....

I never will get enough of the people I love. It's funny, I fall in love so easily: with friends and family, places, eras, and especially beauty. As I say my good-byes in these days leading up to my departure, I keep thinking about how much I've struggled in the past with wanting more and more of the people and places I love. I want to see them every day, hear their frustrations, and be there for their laughter and inside jokes. I want them to confide in me, to need me. I want to know what it's like to live their lives and fix all of their problems. I want to find all the nooks and crannies of Bellingham, Orcas, and Tacoma. I want to eat those sherbet sunsets with a giant spoon. Each time I move, my heart breaks a little.

So enjoy these little snippets from the past few days and weeks; a glimpse into the old Jamie World.

Four More Days

Welcome to my blog! Hooray!

This blog will tell the story of my newest adventure: a year (or so) in Spain. This is huge, I don't even speak much Spanish! I've never visited Europe and as a ferocious admirer of the arts, I can imagine I'll be beside myself with glee 90% of the time. Don't worry though, I'm sure I'll have plenty of drama and juicy details to share as well.

I leave in just four days for Boston to visit one of my favorite people in the world, Kent the Poet. After a few days of sweltering Beantown I leave for Madrid. In Madrid I will have one week to find a roommate, apartment, and my bearings before starting workshops and getting to know my master teacher. I will be an intern in a second grade classroom at the American School of Madrid.

I've begun this blog here in Bellingham so I don't have many amazing pictures to share, thus the adorable picture of Mark and I dancing to Terry's prolific piano playing. I figured this was more interesting than the highly enthusiastic pictures of radishes I took out in the garden this afternoon. Don't thank me yet, I may still post them! If you'd like to read up on my last adventure, three weeks in NYC, click on the link to Jamie's Excellent Adventures at the bottom of this page.

I love to write and I am honored to have your attention. We'll see how I do: learning Spanish, navigating an ancient and confusing city, winning the hearts of seven-year-olds, and exploring Europe. Really, will that be me? Mmmmmm.... Four more days.

And now for something completely different...