Madrid and Toledo: Part 1

Que Tal?

Well its is Monday, which is pretty unfortunate since it means the end of the weekend, especially sad since my weekend was very, very fun. Even worse is the status of my health and the weather. Its dark, cold, and grey outside and I could pretty much describe myself the same way. I started to feel bad last week, and went to a pharmacy hoping to find something that would zap the cold that I felt coming on. The thing about Spanish pharmacies though, is that everything is a behind-the-counter-process. So you can't just walk in a pick up some Tylenol, or cough syrup. You have to know the name of the product and then go and ask a pharmacist to get it for you. I am really missing just being able to pick up some Sudafed, my go to sleep aid/ cough suppressant/ pain reliever at my local Vandy CVS. Of course, there are no American brand names here, so I just ended up buying the equivalent of Ibuprofen when I explained to the lady behind the counter that my whole body hurt: me duele. I don't really think the medicine has been working though, especially since I now have a worse cough and a runny nose on top of my headache and body pains. To top it off, last night I woke up, and realized I couldn't open my eye, on account of it being shut together by goo and crusties. Yup, I think I have pink eye. Yayyyy which means I get to where my glasses for the next week at least (I am not a fan of the glasses). Oh well. Luckily, I was able to schedule a doctor appointment today at 7 (so late!) so hopefully before I know it I will be too doped up on drugs to realize anything is wrong.

Anyways, so I got up to leave for Madrid at 6:45 on Friday which wasn't too early, though it felt like it at the time. Inma had said she would leave me a lunch in la niviera, and sure enough, I found a huge bag with two sandwiches, two fruit drinks, two oranges, and a box of oreos. God bless that woman. Shaun and I met up, and headed to the train station. Our whole group was already there, and when we arrived, Clara (the CIEE director) gave us each a envelope with train tickets, maps, and food stamps. So much for planning on not eating in Madrid: free meal coupons!!! The train we took to Madrid is called Renfe, and super fast (300 mph). Like a streamlined speeding bullet that shoots through the Spanish countryside. It was really nice too, but I mostly slept during the ride there. Once in Madrid, we arrived at our hotel, located right off of the Plaza Sol (the main plaza in Madrid). My first impression of Madrid: I was underwhelmed. It was defiantly bigger, cleaner and more industrial than Barcelona. I think the best way I could describe Barcelona v. Madrid is comparing Houston to Austin. While I loved Madrid, and everything we did there, all any of us could talk about was how glad we were that we choose a bohemian and artsy city like Barcelona for study abroad, rather than a more serious and technical urban center like Madrid. After settling in to our nice, comfortable hotel (this is when I love when programs pay for trips, I would never be able to afford a three star hotel anywhere in Europe unless it was on another person's bill, I'm strictly a hostel girl), we went on a tour of el barrio Madrid de los Austrias. It was a great intro to the city, and we walked by the Teatro Real, the Palacio Real (president's palace), Catedral de la Almudena (seemed interesting, it was only just finished after almost 400 years), Plaza Mayor (where almost 40 victims of the Spanish Inquisition were killed, while the kings and queens watched from balconies) and Plaza de Ayuntamiento (where a revolutionary once threw a bomb disguised as roses from a tower to a imperial wedding parade below on the street). I'm sure we went more places, but as you can imagine, we were really tired by this point, so my memory is kinda blurry!

After walking around the city in the surprisingly warm weather, we were scheduled for a guided tour of the Prado, Madrid's museum for art of the 17th and 16th centuries. The Prado is super spacious and laid out in a very neat and organized manner. I liked the main entrance room because the walls were painted in a bright organgey-red. Like a huge accent wall. Our tour guide took us room by room, and explained the history of each painting through the audio head set well all received. Yes, we were that group of people who obnoxiously walk through museums with a headset and guide. The Prado has a ton of great paintings that I remember from my art history days including:

The Annunciation by Fra Angelico

La Maja Vestida and La Maja Desnuda by Goya (Goya almost got killed after he was found to have painted a woman in the nude; nobody knows her real identity, but she is believed to be a duchess that still has a great great great grand duchess alive today in Spain).

Satan Devouring His Children by Goya (Apparently, this was part of a series of drawing called the Black Paintings that Goya started to draw on the walls of his own house once he became deaf in his later years. All are very dark, and deal with themes about insanity and the artist's decent into madness. They are haunting, but a provoking look into what his was feeling at the end of his life).

And last but not least, Las Meninas by Velasquez. I had such a inexplicable reaction when I saw the Prado's most famous work for the first time. It really hit me what a absolute genius and master Velasquez was, and how revolutionary this work was for his time. For those unfamiliar with art history, Las Meninas depicts the daughter of Philip IV, La Infanta Margarita, surrounded by her maids and court jesters. However, if you look closely, you can also see that Velasquez painted himself into the picture, looking out at the viewer. In the  background, one can observe the faint outline of Reuben's painting, and the king's chamberlain entering (or his leaving? A ongoing debate among art historians) the king's room. Look even closer in the mirror in the background, and you can make out the faint silhouette of the king and queen reflecting back at the viewer. This being said, the work is supposedly painted from the viewpoint of the king and queen; this scene is what they would have been witnessing as the had their self-portraits painted. It really is fascinating how Velasquez's work ties the viewer into a scene of court life, and transfixes attention on the La Infanta Margarita, who would be looking on as her parents sat for their portrait. Our tour guide described the work as a "snapshot of 17th century royal Spanish life". For this reason, I think people are fascinated. That, and because the whole composition is so enigmatic, with many questions between illusion and reality, and a uncertain relationship between the viewer and the actors in the painting. There is no universal agreement among art historians about what Velasquez was trying to depict/attempt/capture when he painted Las Meninas. I think he goal was to create a work that would mystify and puzzle people for ages to come and in the process carve himself a niche as a master artist. I say he accomplished his goal rather well, as it is still the most viewed work at the Prado today.

Another very famous work at the Prado is the El Tres de Mayo by Goya. As you can imagine, seeing this painting is real life is breathtaking. Its huge, and more than anything I would say, profound. Goya painted it to commemorate the murder of the Spanish by Napoleon's army during the occupation in 1808. Notice how none of the faces of the murderers are shown. The Spanish victims are characterized as the opposite of the monolithic firing squad, irregular, disorganized and thus more human-like. Illuminated by a Baroque inspired lantern, the main figure in white and yellow (reminiscent of the colors of the papacy perhaps?) stands dramatically with his arms spread eagle, in a familiar Christ-like pose of martyrdom (if you are ever at the Prado, look closer at the mans hands, and you can make out a stigma on his palms, just like the wounds Christ suffered on the cross). Is he appealing or is he defiant to his executioners? Goya does not shy away from the brutal subject matter, but rather paints without shame, the horrors of war. For this reason, his work is revolutionary, unforgiving, and intensely personal.

After the Prado, the girls and I headed back to the hotel, and stopped and got some water and other supplies. Later, we headed out to dinner at a Argentinean place where we ended up having pizza (what?) which has become our go to food (even outside of Rome). Afterward, we walked around the small streets and entered into one or two candy stores before deciding that we needed to have some Chocolate con Churros. Once again, this is nothing new to me as people in Peru eat Chocolate con Churros on a daily basis. But I will explain, as it has been something new to most american students in Spain. Churros are basically fried bread stick covered in sugar (mmm) which are accompanied by a large cup of chocolate (I am talking not American hot chocolate, but literally a cup of thick, solid chocolate). And so there you go, all Spanish people love to hang out after dinner and dip their chocolate into churros and chatter about in rapid Spanish. Because it is my duty to investigate and learn all the rituals and practices of Spanish culture as a exchange student, I have to take part in the daily meal of chocolate con churros. Yes, this is how I justify eating pure chocolate.

Since I was beginning to become sick at this point (and so was my friend Nikki), we decided to call it a early night and head back to the hotel. So begins the night of gastrointestinal tales thanks to my friend Shaun. Before we went to bed that night, Shaun had been complaining of her stomach being queezy, and had made several trips to the bathroom so far. However, we both decided to just try to go to bed, and thought she would be able to sleep it off. However, at 1:30 I woke up, and sure enough Shaun was in the bathroom again. As you can probably guess by this point, she was having major diarrhea issues. Thanks to my time spent in South America, and the lovely parasites I acquired while roughing it in the wonderful countries of Peru and Guatemala, gastro-intestinal issues don't phase me anymore. In fact, I have a general rule that as long as you are not vomiting and diarrhea-ing (I am making that a verb) simultaneously (yes, this is what my time in Xela, Guatemala basically was like), you are fine. Nonetheless, I was starting to get worried about Shaun and her becoming dehydrated since her bathroom runs had been happening every ten minutes for the past two hours. So at 2 am, I run down to get our program director Clara, where she sticks to her "Spanish only" policy (in fact, I am beginning to think she just really doesn't speak English at all). Word I learned: "diarrhea" is basically the same pronunciation in Spanish and English. This is how you learn another language. Real world experience abroad: when you have a friend in a dire medical situation and you must explain in whatever way possible (including hand motions and bathroom noises). Anyways, our director was able to get Shaun some prescription strength meds by running to a 24 hr pharmacy around 3 am. By this time, Shaun and I found it totally hilarious that diarrhea and diarrea were pretty much the same word. So we spent about an hour rolling around dying of laughter on our bed. During this time, I tried to comfort her with my sicknesses stories from abroad, including projecting vomiting at a restaurant in Peru, naming my parasite back while in States, and clogging my host family's toilet in Guatemala. Man, it sucked then but its pretty fun now when my digestive experiences can give make someone else feel better when they are going through the same thing. Anyways, we eventually feel asleep around 3 am, after our entire tour around Madrid and  journey there nearly 20 hours before. To continue reading about my adventures in Madrid and Toledo, wait for part 2....