Pascua

Semana Santa (Holy Week) is a big deal in Spain. We were gone for most of the festivities, but I met up with Joey and Melissa for a procession the Saturday before Easter. Hooray for not being sick of each other yet!

The procession began with police clearing the way on motor bikes. Next came the cavalry--beautiful horses with uniformed riders. Then came the drummers. These drummers wore purple and brown robes, hats covering their faces, and were all ages. It was a little spooky, actually, because the dummers had costumes just like the Ku Klux Klan--however, the Klan got the idea from Spain, not the other way around.

Pious people dressed in traditional and formal clothing followed the musical groups. Eventually the Madre Maria was carried through the streets on the shoulders of about twelve men. A few months ago I saw men practicing near Plaza de San Miguel with the heavy frame that supports the mother of God. This is serious business.

Mas. Mas Suisa. Vale.

The view from the deck of our second floor apartment. We were too low in the valley to see the peaks, but it was still very pretty. In the other direction we could watch the skiers swoosh down the slope. Joey skied one morning and Melissa and I sat in a church courtyard near the end of the chairlift eating plums and pastries. What a life!

Beer, ping-pong, Alps. Check, check, and check.
Joey took this awesome picture while Melissa and I battled below.

Our humble abode. Note the snow out the window, the L couch, and the battle ax in the corner. Somehow I neglected to get a picture of Joey and his ax.

Melissa tolerated our ping-pong enthusiasm very well. She's got great form. Joey taught me a new serve. Good times all around.

One of our days was spent en route to Neuschwanstein castle in Germany. In order to get there we needed to pass through Switzerland, Lichtenstein, Austria, and finally Germany. Melissa and I devoured a pretzel in celebration.

Melissa's pictures of Neuschwanstein turned out way better than mine. Good work Mo! The castle was built by crazy King Ludwig of Bavaria in the latter part of the 19th century. It's also thought to be the inspiration for Cinderella's (?) castle in Disneyland. My favorite part was Aphrodite's cave--complete with stalagtites and stalagmites.

We stopped in this tiny town after Neuschwanstein. I just hadn't gotten enough of Germany yet.



This is a graveyard in Austria. It was so clean and intricate.


On our last day in Switzerland, we stopped in Aug, where ancient roman remains can be viewed. We also spotted some not so ancient romans....



The remains don't really look real to me. I think it's the use of concrete. Romans were actually the first people (in the western world) to use concrete. It seems like such a modern building material.



Schuss, Alps. Ciao.

Rumblings and Ramblings

Words are powerful. Every moment of every day is filled with words and their intent. My days begin early and end late, filled to the brim with words. Moments are punctuated by a valiant effort to translate my thoughts into some semblance of Spanish. Every word I speak sends echoes inside me of my new respect for language acquisition. The music and gallantry of Spanish captivate and humble me. I feel so fortunate to be fluent in English, such pride in the beauty of metaphor and the melding of cultures in our strange tongue. My gratitude and humility follow me through the day, happily accompianied by music.

“Sing me a lullaby, sing me the alphabet, sing me a story I haven’t heard yet.”
–The Weakerthans

I often wake to the plaintive songs of Wilco, Jason Mraz, or the Mountain Goats. They coax me into the damp streets, and to their mournful or playful poetry I emerge, squinting, into the brightness of spring.

“Every moment points toward the aftermath.” –Mountain Goats

At the bus stop the words creak hesitantly from our mouths, arthritic and ornery. Teachers loitering like pigeons on the sidewalk of Gran Via, waiting for the giant caterpillar shaped bus to take us away and dissolve our words into a sleepy silence. The bus Caterpillar eats the teacher pigeons like a twisted fairy tale.

“I have seen your nine to fives wash away your dreams.” –Brandy Carlile

The children’s words flutter around me like a swarm of dusty moths, “Ms. Forslund, can I go to the bathroom?” “Ms. Forslund, what am I supposed to do when I’m finished?” “Ms. Forslund, is that a real story or did you make it up?” “Ms. Forslund, it’s an emergency!”

My words chase them, critical and pleading. “Jacob, do you really think you should choose to sit next to Alex during the lesson?” “Focus Lyndon. You were doing so well!” “I don’t think we have time for that now, you all were so noisy and distracted.” “Let’s surprise Mrs. Allen by walking into the classroom so quietly she doesn’t see us!” “Show me what you practiced this week.” “Happy spider! Thumb on middle C. No, that’s a D, but you were very close!” “Feet flat on the floor, head above hips, breathe deep, and relax.”

Students turn their heads from the piano with pleading looks: “is this right? Can we play something fun next?” Louis’ eyes get big when I reprimand him for not listening to directions, again. I guard my words all day, slipping them through the cracks of my teeth with deliberation and a mustering of confidence. Each word is tested and weighed for clarity, accuracy, and compassion. Each wince at a strong word cuts at me. Each beaming smile at praise lifts my head a little higher.

“Maybe is until the day my dreams will match up with my pay.” –Feist

My favorite part of each day is when we’re walking the children to the buses. Clementina and Michaela silently slip their hands into mine and look up at me with their wide brown eyes. I ask each of them how their day went and Clementina replies with an enthusiastic, “woof!”

“I believe fate smiled at destiny.” –Natalie Merchant

When my tired feet finally trudge toward the hill to the train station, my head is buzzing with words. I quiet the pleading voices of children, cranky cackles of veteran teachers, and the echoes of my clumsy Spanish with the spread of the city before me. If no one is around, I may shake my hips softly along to the songs in my head before I slip carefully down the hill between the apartment buildings.

“...over numbers unencumbered numbered words; hundreds of pages, pages, pages, of words…” –Jason Mraz

Liechtenstein--25 by 6

We visited Liechtenstein on my birthday. It's a tiny country: 25 km by 6 km. The entire country fits between the Rhine and the tips of the mountains next to the Rhine. Most of the time we were in Liechtenstein we were gazing fondly at Switzerland, ironically enough. Most of these pictures are of the Swiss Alps. We drove around to the little towns but stopped first in Vaduz, the capitol. Vaduz is a small hamlet filled with modern sculpture and architecture juxtaposed against traditional buildings and the quaint countryside. The towns were eerily quiet.



Silly grins everyone! It's Jamie's birthday!


Joe-ball relaxing in the sun.


Makin' friends with a tree.
The bench was a little remote. Good thing he has long legs!



What view? You don't need no view. We're pretty, look at us!


My favorite piece of modern sculpture yet. It's pure happiness. A thin, partially enclosed, steel doorway with a hidden arch of water. You can hear the water from far away. You think, "where the heck is all that water?" You walk into the doorway, and to your right you see a spigot shooting water in an arch above you. Your eyes follow the rainbow of the water up into the clear blue sky and back to earth with a satisfying splash. Melissa took this luscious shot.

The gray line snaking its way through the valley is actually the Rhine river.

The people are built differently in this part of Europe. This picture is not too far off. Forget about a Barbie-doll Swiss Miss and instead picture a hockey team.

African King sculpture. Joey suggested chapstick.

I found this stenciled on dog-poop bins throughout Switzerland and Liechtenstein. I thought it was grafitti at first. Seeing as I am collecting a series of strange signs, this was a goldmine.

It's difficult to look truly relaxed when you're made of bronze.

Zurich

I loved Zurich. I would live there in a hearbeat.

We drove from Basel to Zurich and spent our first night sleeping in the rental car outside a brothel. It was a long, uncomfortable night. Kudos to Joseph for being such a good sport. He wasn't sleeping at all and saw that I was sleeping fitfully and uncomfortably in the back seat and offered his reclining driver's side seat so that I would be more comfortable. What a guy! We woke up to a cold, sunny day with some of the best light I've seen in a long time. We walked around Zurich for several hours and left before 10 am. The city was very clean, very organized, and friendly. Even the dogs were clean (not so in Madrid) and I made friends with a little mutt outside the cathedral. I loved the over-sized clocks that adorned all the churches and public buildings. No wonder everything is on time in Switzerland!