by Sima Kalmens

The day draws near, very near. On October 2—this Friday—the International Olympics Committee will announce the host city of the 2016 Summer Olympics.

I look forward to the Olympic Games, summer and winter, biennially, but the 2016 bid is particularly important and exciting. Two of the bids are Chicago and Madrid (I actually had no idea what the other two bids were until I snuck a peak at Wikipedia, answer to all questions).

I am a bred Chicagoan, having lived there for the last sixteen years. I use linguistic aberrations such as pop when talking about soft drinks and some people pick up on my Midwest accent. So the prospect of the Olympics being held fifteen minutes away from my house (everything is 15 minutes away in Chicago) is horribly exciting. To think! No airfare, no hotel fare. Just gas money, horrible traffic, and time wasted trying to find parking.

What makes the bid even more interesting than the possibility of the Olympic Games in Chicago, is the fact that the other bid city, Madrid, is my current place of residence. Therefore, I cannot help but take part of the festivities. I consider it cultural immersion, not betrayal.

On Sunday, I attended the candidature celebration at La Plaza de Cibeles and contributed to the human mosaic of Madrid’s Olympic logo:

This is the aerial view of the incredible human mosaic, which thousands of madrileños assisted in making:

While it is entertaining being part of Madrid’s Olympic pride, my corazonada is for Chicago, because, well, I don’t need a $1,000 ticket to get there.

by Sima Kalmens

I remember getting on the train five years ago, during my last visit to Spain. The train was white and sleek with minimal purple writings. The impeccably neat interior boasted a relatively wide aisle and comfortable, roomy seats. The train took off smoothly and within minutes, Anger Management was playing on the video screens descended from the ceiling. En route to Seville, I gazed out the window as the brown and green Spanish countryside whizzed by me.

For those of us who prefer our transportation to stay on the ground, the Spanish railway company, RENFE, boasts the train that combines the comfort and convenience of ground transportation with the speed of airplanes. AVE, which stands for Alta Velocidad España and also cleverly, and appropriately, employs the use of the Spanish word for bird, is the gem of Spanish railway services.

AVE service premiered in April 1992 with daily routes between Madrid and Seville, conveniently in time with the 1992 World Fair that was being held in Seville. By 1994, the trains were running faster, cutting travel time from Madrid to Seville by 40 minutes and completing the route in two and a half hours. Madrid is 471km away from Seville.

The Madrid-Málaga line was completed in 2007 and the anticipated Madrid-Barcelona line debuted in 2008. Madrid and Barcelona are 600km apart and the trip takes a little under three hours, punctually ending at Barcelona’s Estacio Sants.

RENFE began offering middle-distance services via AVANT in 2004. Routes include Madrid-Toledo, which takes less than 30 minutes, Madrid-Segovia, Barcelona-Huesca, and Málaga-Seville.

AVE now has 1,835km of track in service throughout Spain and is well on its way to becoming the world’s largest high-speed service with the most kilometers of available track.

RENFE does not compete with airline prices and choosing AVE service over cheap airlines will not necessarily save you money. However, the convenience of train stations’ central locations beats the lengthy, and expensive, commute to and from the airport. Furthermore, you completely avoid the drama that is airport security. Same price, less hassle? I’ll take that anyday.

by Sima Kalmens

I am probably one of the few people in Madrid who did not take full advantage of La Noche en Blanco this past Saturday. That does not go to say, however, that I did not take part in the festivities. I did. I put myself right in the middle of the action on the stretch of Calle Alcalá between La Plaza de Cibeles and La Puerta del Sol, where it was difficult to stop moving even for a moment to take a picture.

Having been in Madrid for only a week and a half, La Noche en Blanco was, in a way, sprung on me. I found out about it the Thursday before and although I read about it, heard about it, and talked about it, I was still not sure exactly what it was until Saturday night when I exited the restaurant where I had eaten dinner and found myself among throngs of people walking this way and that.

First stop: Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofia. Being in an art museum at 23:00 is certainly not something I have ever done before. Exciting would not be the exact word I would use to describe this event, but for lack of a better word, it was exciting. I spent a large chunk of time in the museum courtyard/garden. Although there were other visitors strolling down the gravel paths, the dark shadows cast by the trees at midnight and the misty yellow lights created a very private ambiance. And there was this outside (I did not go inside because the line was too long):

Second stop: the migration from La Reina Sofia to La Plaza de Cibeles via the tiny streets in between (not quite a stop). It was packed. I lingered to look at some street vendor items, but too much lingering seemed to make people impatient, so I floated on. On the way, I noticed some interesting bars and cafés. For future reference, I suppose.

Third stop: La Plaza de Cibeles. In front of the behemoth of intricacy that is the Palacio de Comunicaciones, there was a ginormous screen playing a hip-hop dance lesson. I found it more interesting to observe others struggling with the choreography than dancing myself, although I am sure that my own moves would have been severely entertaining for others as well.

Fourth stop: the walk down Calle Alcalá (also not a stop). The view of the illuminated buildings and signs was incredible. Unfortunately, my probably obsolete camera did not do the scene justice:

On the walk down Calle Alcalá, I learned that sostenibilidad is not defined in the dictionary. I even got to write my own definition of the word (among many others’)!

The next day, I heard about a gazillion other events that I could have attended, but as I was not in the mood for metro hopping all night, I was content with my evening and my first taste of La Noche en Blanco.

by Sima Kalmens

I arrived in Spain from the United States last week with the awareness of cultural differences seated somewhere in the back rows of my mind. The rest of the seating area was densely occupied by my excitement. I was finally in Madrid!

Conveniently forgetting all the Spanish I know as soon as one of the Barajas employees asked me something, I incoherently mumbled something along the lines of es bueno while lugging my stuffed suitcases towards the row of taxis. As soon as I got into a taxi, I realized that I was completely clueless as to how tipping works in Spain; this preoccupied me for the entire 30-minute ride. I knew that tipping is not as big a deal in Europe as it is in the United States, but that was the extent of my knowledge. How much less of a big deal is it? What if I undertip and the taxi driver hates me? I realized I didn’t even know how to say “keep the change.”

The total came out to 34E. I decided it would be acceptable to round up, so I gave the driver 40E. To my confusion, I got 6E back in change. Apparently, expecting the driver to keep the extra 6E as a tip was a purely American thought, one that has not yet crossed the Atlantic Ocean.

Although I must admit that it is considerably easier not to have to fiddle around with a pencil after receiving the check at dinner, trying to figure out the tip (basic arithmetic is not one of my fortes), the odd feeling of leaving only 50 cents or so still remains. Which brings me to another point.

I am simply not accustomed to change being worth anything. In the United States, change is petty money. People often forget they even have any. Here in Europe, clanking change has more variety than anything with the word variety in it. There is a 2E coin, a 1E coin, 50 cents, 20 cents, 2 cents, and 1 cent. Seeing the number two on American money is rare, with the exception of $20 bills and quarters (25 cents), of course. A $2 bill in the US is ooh-d and ahh-d over, and kept as a collector’s item, while 50 cent coins are rare and 2 cent coins are virtually unheard of. So you can imagine my unrest when I leave a restaurant table adorned with a huge pile of coins; in the US it is considered disrespectful.

Cab fares and restaurant tips aside, in the past week I have come to the realization that the metro is a prime location for cultural observation. While it is not necessarily the corazón of Madrid life, it is nevertheless a bustling center of people coming, going, and interacting. Greetings aren’t hugs or macho slaps on the back. Quite the contrary; they’re docile kisses on the cheek full of cariño or hearty handshakes.

The madrileños seem genuinely interested in each other, a refreshing change from American indifference, where the phrase “how are you?” is usually a mere equivalent of “hello” and the speaker does not stop to hear the answer. Having gotten lost more times in the past week than I would care to admit, I have gotten in the habit of asking fellow pedestrians for directions and have discovered that they are more than happy to ensure that I reach my destination, even if they themselves cannot offer adequate directions.

I could get used to this.

by Isaure Cointreau

People keep asking me the same question when they come to Spain:

-What do you like about it so much?

I guess I never knew what to say but honestly what are the good and bad sides of this place? When thinking about it, the relaxed pace of life is the first idea that pops into my head. As if holidays were around all year, the feel is part of the everyday life. People just take their time to do their thing, what else could explain the siesta and the slow reactions of the shop assistants, the relaxed walk of the crowd down Gran Via and then again the outraging number of bars in Madrid? Spain has its way and to any foreigner, used to a more tensed lifestyle, this comes as a shock. Although all the newcomers aren’t used to this southern rhythm, they accommodate themselves well and pretty fast.

However, it can be seen as very frustrating when the two different visions of life confront each other. Firstly, if people are used to live on a high speed level they’ll find a little cankiness take over them when encountering a slow response to their enquiry. Secondly, if one is in a rush or on a crisis, he’ll just have to cool off or plan ahead. Let this be a lesson to us all as there is no need to panic; the world is not falling apart. Therefore, patience is the key to prevent from any nervous breakdown.

The friendliness and the good mood of people appears as another factor that makes Spain an enjoyable place to live. Think about it, even Madrid shows off a tranquil lifestyle. Comparing it to other capital cities such as Paris or London is an outrage as it is like pointing to another direction; it has nothing to do with the pace of life in these countries. Therefore it feels good to be a Spaniard, even a temporary one.

However, because there is always a flipside, one shouldn’t be surprised by the much less enjoyable edge to the character of these people. Yes, they are loud and that is a fact, but to add a little more to the picture they also have a little tendency towards egocentricism, or should I say excessive pride. Not that they won’t welcome you into their home and gladly show you around, these warm people just like things done their way. Don’t get offended if while walking you happen to get in someone’s way and they just push you away with their predominance. It’s just how things are.

The qualities required to a country for us to fall in love with it are “Good people, good food, good culture and good access”. Well for the most part I guess Spain succeeds into having every single one of these appealing characteristics. People’s warmness is undeniable, but let’s find out about the rest. Referring to culture, I would mean to target the historical heritage and the modern inclination towards Art in the general sense. Spain offers a cosmopolitan grasp of cultures as the Mediterranean civilizations made it a principal destination to invade. Therefore the Moors, the Romans, the Greeks, the Christians have left throughout the centuries an incredible amount of architectural and artistic leftovers from their different regimes. So wherever you will go in Spain you will find a necessary sightseeing tour.

However in our more modern times Spain appears as to have its place next to the main cultural spots such as Paris & New York. Madrid holds every international exhibit such as Bacon, Rembrandt or Max Ernst in its museums or foundations. Bilbao has its own Guggenheim and Barcelona other than its Picasso museum has a wide variety of places that are worth a detour. However the little plus appears to be the access these cultural centers offer. Most of the exhibits are free or of a very reasonable charge. Even if they occur in a variety of places in Spain, they are never more than a few hours of train or bus ahead. Who could want more? The cultural horizon in Spain is endless.

How about food? Internationally renowned it however shows a wide variety in terms of quality and diversity from one end of the country to the other. Because there is something else than the Spanish comfort food known as the famous and trendy tapas, the cardinal points change a Spaniards habits to food although they all cherish their ham. The gourmet side of the Iberian soil appears to be up North around the French border where San Sebastian has more Michelin Stars per inhabitant than anywhere else in the world. Down South the food is more inspired by the Sea side and always accompanied by the strong Rioja Wines and up East however Valencia’s Paella is a wonder. However, the only critic I would make is the emphasis on oil and its outraging quantities in every plate, is it really necessary?

Other than that, if you ask me why I like this place? I’ll just ask you: What is there not to love?

by Jeanne Reidy

I had heard that college students in Spain are in little rush to finish their schooling. Some stay at their university for 6 or 7 years. I guess the cost is not pressuring them to finish as they pay a very small amount for classes and the vast majority live at home which saves on room and board costs.

Still, everyday, I was surprised by the fact that the cafeteria and courtyards were always more crowded than the library and computer labs. The students never seemed to be stressed about homework or tests, which could’ve been thanks to the forgiving curriculum or to the fact that they were not being hounded to finish school by their parents, teachers or loan collectors. Perhaps the difficulty of getting a job in this economy is keeping them enrolled for as long as possible. 

But what happens after the eventual graduation? Due to the limited housing in Madrid, the expense and most of all, tradition, these twenty-somethings are encouraged to live at home. They are not being forced into the work world nor do they need to as they have very little to pay for on their own with their rent, food and maybe more are paid for by their parents. So, from my understanding, most young madrileños do just that. They live at home, help out around the house and put off the work world a bit longer. Most Spanish children, if fact, live at home until close to the age of 30 or marriage- whichever comes first.

My señora’s daughter amazed me. She was an unemployed college-educated 27 year-old living with her mother. Now I understand the job market is tough right now and Spain’s unemployment rate is brutal- about double that of the United States’. However, she never seemed to be looking too hard for a job either. She seemed content living at home having her meals and laundry taken care of by her willing mother.

I always compare her to my sister of the same age. Since graduating from college, my sister has fulfilled a two year contract with a respected law firm in New York City, where she paid her own over-the-top Manhattan rent, moved back to Chicago for Law School for which she is currently searching for a job to pay for her looming loans. Now, I don’t say this to look down upon the madrileño and pat the American on the back. I just find the cultural differences fascinating. And who is to say which way is the “right” way.

One of my teachers at the Complutense said in regards to this topic that even though Spanish parents complain about their older children living at home, “we have created this problem”. The “problem” being that the kids live at home much longer than usual. He explained that parents actually prefer it so they can monitor their children and not worry about them living on their own. I understand this point of view, but I doubt most American parents would feel the same way.

I recently read an article in El Pais, a Spanish newspaper, that identified this age group, ages 18 to 34, as “Generación Ni-Ni”, a generation that “ni trabaja ni estudia”, neither works nor studies. Basically, the article explained that with a growing number of graduates who aren’t finding jobs, a new generation has been born. At the same time, this is a group of people who have grown up in a time that has always experienced and believed in continuous economic development, until lately. They are used to living conditions, with their parents, that are constantly improving and don’t feel like they should experience anything less. In other words, if never having lived and paid for their own apartments, they don’t understand living any other way than in their parent’s established homes.

The wanna-be Spanish side of me wishes she could live in her parent’s home forever with meal and laundry service. The “hardworking American” side of me knows that until I live and pay for my own starter apartment, I won’t understand what it takes to pay for and build a home like that of my parents.

Maybe it is the sense of freedom the young Americans gain when they move away from home for the first time. I mean, young Spaniards can drink from an early age and stay out until 6 a.m. without a single question from their parents. So why would they want to move out? They have all the freedom they need already, plus meals and laundry service on top of that.

As much as I think I’ve adapted to the Spanish culture, I don’t think I will ever understand this phenomenon. I can respect the reasoning behind it but I think I speak for most Americans my age, I hope not to be living at home at the age of 30. No offense, Mom and Dad.

by Stuart Yochem

As an avid scuba diver, I didn’t expect that Spain would be considered a destination for other divers like me. It seems that I couldn’t have been more wrong! For the past days, I’ve been researching different dive sites along the Spanish coast, and the variety and multitude of caves, wrecks, and reefs is astounding. So I began to map out a Mediterranean diving trip (which I shall take sometime in the future when my bank account is a little more promising), using Spain as my go to country. For those of you pondering summer plans, sinking into the Med for two weeks may turn out to be your most thrilling adventure yet!

In order to make the trip more orderly and less costly, I decided to start this adventure off the Southern coast, in the Canary Islands.

Location 1: La Palma, 2 days

The greatest thing about the Canaries is that although they are an island chain, each island has its own, distinct personality.

La Palma, one of the westernmost islands of the seven Canaries, is a volcanic ocean island and can also be referred to as la Isla de las Palmas (the island of palms). Destination #1: The Crosses of Malpique, located at the island’s southernmost tip. In 1570, 40 Jesuit missionaries came to Puerto Tazacorte with their ship and though they were hopeful to evade turmoil, French Pirates captured and killed all 40 on board. In 2000, 40 stone crosses were lowered into the sea in memory of the missionaries, and the reef was named for them. Natives believe that the crosses could soothe the ocean. Maybe this dive will leave you feeling soothed as well…

After taking in a bit of history under the sea style, take advantage of your time left on the island, acclaimed by many for its unspoiled, natural beauty and for its lack of tourism. Take a walk through the incredibly lush Caldera de Taburiente National Park. Afterwards, you should check out the Roque de los Muchachos Astrophysics Observatory, which contains international telescopes spanning 2 km!

Location 2: Tenerife, 4 days

Upon arrival to Tenerife, it’s most likely that you won’t get in a full day of diving so better to explore the island. Tenerife is the largest of the Canaries and boasts both the highest mountain in Spain, El Teide, as well as the world’s 3rd largest volcano!

On your second day, let the diving begin. For those of you who suffer from claustrophobia or are afraid of the dark (which under the sea can bring out a whole new dimension of darkness, as I learned in a past experience that will remain unmentioned), you may want to skip these dives. Yes folks, cave diving. Ali Barbars Cave, located 15 minutes outside of the harbor, will be a feast for the senses. The entrance to the cave is covered in black coral taking on the appearance of Christmas tree branches. Once inside, torches on, spectacular colors will jump out at you. As you exit, take a look behind you as a diver with a sense of humor has set up a nativity scene at the back of the cave.

Next stop, Palm Mar Caves, where a complete wall of moray eel, sedentary organisms, lobster and barracuda swim in and out of dark crevices. Also, catch a glimpse at the cave’s Jacques Cousteau statue, located next to the sea wall. Finish out your day with stops at dive sites The Steps and Shark Cave.

Jacques Cousteau

Day three will be filled with reefs, fish, reefs, and more fish. Radazul, Tenerife is home to three thrilling sites: Devil’s Reef, the Wall and Grouper’s Cave. The Wall, located on a vertical sea wall, (hints the name, “the wall”) is a favorite among scuba lovers. Close by is Grouper’s Cave, where at the end of the reef is a cave inhabiting a large, friendly Grouper. After befriending this famous fish, boat on over to La Nea Beach where you can spend the rest of your day relaxing with a cocktail.

Your final morning will take you to Stingray Bay, where you will find a sunken fishing boat, loads of friendly rays and if you’re lucky, turtles! On your way to the next site, Carbonero, keep your eyes open for jumping dolphins. Finish your day at the nearby Las Teresitas beach and reminisce all of your underwater escapades.  At this point, you and Sebastian the crab will most certainly be on the same page… life IS better under the sea.

Location 3: Fuerteventura, 1 day

Before bidding farewell to the Canaries, make one last stop at Fuerteventura. Veril Grande is a small reef where creatures, including a meadow of garden eels as well as stingray, barracuda and angel shark lurk in the sand. Next stops the Pyramid and the Labrynth. The Labrynth has a wild seascape that always surprises visitors as well as a plethora of sea life. If you’re lucky, you may spot a hammerhead. Last dive of the day, El Portal, where conditions are ideal for larger fish such as Tuna and sometimes even Whale Shark! What a way to end your day.

Location 4: Marbella and San Pedro de Alcántara, Costa del Sur, 2 days

Marbella, situated within the Malaga province, is known for its ritzy appeal and glamorous residents, which have included Sean Connery, Antonio Banderas and Joan Collins. This all began in 1940, when Prince Max Egon zu Hohenlohe-Langenburg and his heir Alfonso de Hohenlohe were experiencing car troubles in the town. What a hassle it must have been to have a broken down Rolls Royce in an undiscovered island paradise. Alfonso fell in love with the beautiful town and began to market it as a tourist destination, magnetizing the rich and famous. Marbella’s lap of luxury is not confined to its town, but extends into the ocean where underwater life will be equally if not more exciting than marveling at celebrities.

Start off the morning at Marbella Towers. Close to the towers is Barco Antiguo (antique ship), where a ship, called the Galeon by natives, takes up a whopping 70 meters! It seems that the majority of Coata del Sol’s underwater creatures prefer to spend their time here. Finish your day at the Marbella Wrecks and then head back to shore for a night in this posh paradise.

Your second day will take you to the town of San Pedro de Alcántara. Placer de las Bovedas, listed as one of the top ten dive sites in Spain, is a gigantic reef, 1 km long and 500 meters wide where deep dives are guaranteed. Fishing is rare in this area, so chances that you will see bigger fish are very likely! Bovedas is very rocky and has beautiful canons, valleys, walls and overhanging rocks leaving divers wanting more. One thing to be cautious about is the current- the reef is located in the open sea, very close to the Strait of Gibraltar and the Atlantic Ocean.

Location 5: Las Islas Hormigas, 1 day

On your way up the Spanish coast, spend a day at las Islas Hormigas, located just off the coast near Cabo de Palos. The islands are known for having the best-preserved and most varied marine reserves. Here, you can find old wrecks from 1886 to 1903, submerged mountains, and diverse sea life. The reserve itself has four dive sites, Bajo de Testa, Piles 1, Piles 2 and Bajo de Dentro (which has a large, swim through cavern). All are sure to impress!

Location 6: Mallorca, 4 days

Hopefully, this last designated stop won’t leave you feeling too disappointed. This island getaway, where an abundance of renowned Spaniards have made and continue to make their homes, is located in the Balearic Islands. The astounding sights, the beautiful beaches, the delectable cuisine and the great nightlife will try its best to distract you. Remember why you came though! The diving in Mallorca will surely match if not outdo the pork loin.

On day one, head to Santa Ponsa, where off the coast you will come across islands Malgrats and El Toro. Both islands are surrounded by marine reserves with a spectacular array of barracuda, iridescent blue fish, goatfish and seabream, whose scales catch the sunlight as they feast on sea urchins. The structure of the seabed and surrounding sea walls is out of this world and may well convince you that nature had a keen architectural force behind it.

On day two, The Madonna Cave will be waiting for you. The dive starts as you descend into the cave’s mouth. At the bottom of the cave, torches on, you will find a Madonna statue. There is plenty of room to swim around the cave as well as two air pockets if you’re in need of a break. You may come across a conger eel, a resident of the cave who is spotted on certain occasions. As you exit, be sure to catch a glimpse at the lit up cavern behind you, and just before the cave ceiling, you will notice a hazy shimmer that signifies where fresh and salt water meets.

These last two days will be yours to use as you please. Mallorca is a fantastic place to spend time, above or under water!

As your trip comes to an end, keep all of your encounters in mind… you had a religious experience in underwater La Palma, enjoyed a lovely Christmas, made friends with a grouper and met a world renowned explorer in Tenerife, lived in the lap of luxury in Marbella, came across some historical ship wrecks in Las Islas Hormigas, plus you saw the Madonna and the best of the Med’s underwater designs in Mallorca. What a whirlwind. I think that Mr. Cousteau summed it up pretty nicely…  ”The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”

By: Jeanne Reidy

Before arriving in Spain, I had heard that the Spanish culture is much more formal than the American.  I heard that little old ladies put on nylons and heels just to go to the supermarket and that no one dare wear gym shoes on the street. Very quickly after arriving, I learned that the track at the park near my apartment wasn’t for running but for old men in top hats and cigars and women in long fur coats to take a pre-dinner stroll. The strange looks I got during that experience taught me that Madrileños don’t commonly wear sweatpants and t-shirts in public either.  With all the characteristics of a formal culture in mind, I’ve been surprised by, in fact, how informal Spaniards are in many other aspects of their life.

First, the language. For a culture in which its people present themselves so formally, they speak to each other like they’ve known each other forever. For example, ever since I’ve been taught to conjugate a Spanish verb, I’ve been told that I will need to perfect the “usted” form, as I am to use it with anyone older than me, and that I will never need to know the “vosotros” form. Now, in American schools, this makes sense as they think the only Spanish speaker we will ever talk to will be from Mexico, where these rules apply. However, I hear nothing but “vosotros” forms of verbs and informal speaking in Spain. In fact, since being here, I’ve learned that Spaniards would only use the “usted” form of a verb to talk to the president or someone much older or important. It can be offensive to use “usted” with a Spaniard as it implies they are very old. Whoops…       

I’ve been surprised by some of the informal conversation I’ve heard between Spaniards. At a formal school function, I overheard my program director and a university professor meet and say “Hombre, ¿que tal? ” or the equivalent to “Dude, what´s up? ” Where else would you hear to grown women speak to each other like that at a formal event?

Not just the language, but the culture, too, has surprised me. I recently started tutoring a family of two kids in English. On my first day, I arrived at their door step, only having ever exchanged emails, only for the mom to scoop me right up and jump into conversation about the kids’ school work. I was expecting at least a few minutes of “So, where are you from? How do you like Madrid? ” But no- it was like I was a friend of the family that she had known for years. It was more of a “Oh good you’re here, let’s jump right into this”. I experienced the same thing when moving into my señora’s house. I was expecting a one-on-one session to go over house rules and guidelines. There was nothing of the sort. She showed me my room and bathroom and went on about her day, unalarmed, as if I’d been living there for months.  

Regardless of how different it is from the American culture I’m used to- one where a family would have interviewed and background checked me before inviting me into their home- it is refreshing. It is so nice to feel like everyone knows each other and are there to help each other out. Being part of the Spanish culture has given me the feeling that we’re all human, on the same world, with the same problems and goals, so why treat each other any other way?   

by Isaure Cointreau

 Living in Spain one cannot avoid the famous corridas.  Although there are debates arguing whether it is a barbaric tradition or a fantastic folkloric art, it is either way a breathtaking experience. During my time on the Spanish soil I have witnessed several executions of bulls, some more spectacular than others. Between the novillados, the matadors and the rejoneadores the picture is well set to suit all tastes.  For my part I have a preference, what’s yours?

Starting with the beginners, although the young bullfighters can appear clumsy and make us feel ill for the poor animal, some could surprise you. Don’t miss on the novilladas, you might see the first steps of a great matador! On the other hand, the more experienced bullfighters execute their labor with far more grace and confidence. The defying attitude towards the bull is part of the game and while they dance with their “capote de brega” , they enhance the thrills and excitement of the show.

 However if you want a little bit more extravaganza, beauty and intense emotions, try the ones where horses are part of the arena.  These are called the rejoneos and although the stakes are very different in the art of bullfighting it is, as far I’m concerned the most enjoyable.

On Sunday 6th of June, Andy Cartagena overthrew its public with a tremendous performance. The alchemy between the horse and its rider were evident and it felt as if they were one. Through audacious twirls while the bull was chasing the torero’s ride, the tease and remarkable execution, the show was unbelievable. Setting the bullring on fire, Cartagena took the high road, leaving the arena through the main entrance, acclaimed like a hero and carried by its public. No wonder two ears were granted to him.

 Although the trills of the corrida are undeniable, more agreeable to some than others, it is often forgotten that it is not just a sport but a complex game between life and death dictated by precise rules. The last few weeks have been a sheer example of the dangers of the arena and the talent of Israel Lancho did not prevent him from a tragic fate. While the bull was waiting for the last coup it refused its death sentence and surprised the matador with its horns. Let this be a lesson for all as to never let down our guard when facing unreliable circumstances.

 Although to foreigners this game seems to be pretty much out there, there is much more to it than what meets the eye. Skills, precision and courage are the three elements a matador requires throughout his training as they are eventually the only resources he will rely on during the fights. On the other hand, the cape seems to be another reliable fact for his safety. Contradicting the legend where the bull would be attracted to red, it is in fact to moving objects that the animal is encouraged to charge.

Alongside the whole rhythm of the events of the corrida, such as the venue of the picadors and bandilleros, the bullfighter comes last but with the tragic duty of finishing off the bull. Armed with a smaller cape, making his presence more evident to the beast, and a long sword, his role is to aim for the shoulder blades of the black bull. This is where bullfighting can be considered as an art. While the matador performs a breathtaking dance, in order to tire the wounded animal, the risks are nevertheless hazardous. This beautiful show ends when the sword sinks in the black neck. The beast then surrenders falling on his knees, the blood silently dripping on the sand. Then according to the performance the fighter would be granted either the public’s applause or a prize, such as an ear or two of the sacrificed toro.

So what will it be, tradition or SPA? I am far from being a vegetarian but I do fear the exhibition of blood, however I cannot be disgusted in any way by the sunlight reflected on the red stained back of a bull. The graceful movements of the cape, the shining costumes, the running banderilleros and the ringing applause of the public, how could one be sick of such enthusiasm? If Matisse once said that art is the realization of impressions, isn’t bullfighting the art of dancing with death, creating for the viewers the sensational thrills of fear and amazement?

by Alexandra Atiya

Some things don’t translate. I laughed a little when I saw that enormous poster up in La Latina – “LA MEJOR COMEDIA DE OSCAR WILDE – LA IMPORTANCIA DE LLAMARSE ERNESTO” – which, unless I’m missing something, means The Importance of Being Named Ernesto. 

I was waiting in the Carnet Joven office, holding my slightly too large picture of myself, and I was flipping through an issue of Teatro Madrid. I saw a photograph of a man and a woman on stage, each holding a masque. She had wild curly hair and a long brown robe. He had a black robe and he held his arms wide.  Los Cantos de Canterbury: Un Musical del Siglo XIII , it said. The Canterbury Tales? The 13^th-century musical? In a production, that, as the article advertised, contains “a dose, let’s say, of pagan religiosity”?  This sounds like a Middle-Spanglish disaster waiting to happen.

No, not Middle-Spanglish at all. A very fortuitous event. The show only goes up on Mondays in the Teatro de Bellas Artes. (Note:  Teatro de Bellas Artes is not the same as the Circulo de Bellas Artes, although it is right next door.) I got there last Monday at around 8:15 and a woman—a complete stranger—simply gave me a ticket. She said that she had too many. I tried to offer her some money in return, but she said, “No, no, te lo regalo.”

Quite happily I bounced down the steps and into the theater. A good seat too! The show started – a woman came onstage pretending to talk on her cell phone. She was dressed in black, and she was sitting on a large, sloping piece of wood. She said that she was excited to read the new book she had been given as birthday present – the book of The Canterbury Tales, with the Ellesmere miniatures as illustrations.

That’s how it started. Then, of course, it went directly into the Middle Ages and never returned to the present day.  Six men came onstage. They were all musicians, as was the sole woman.  They recounted part of the General Prologue and four tales in song. Between songs they narrated the stories in Spanish. The large, sloping piece of wood that the woman had been sitting on in the introduction turned out to be an enormous illuminated manuscript, and one man turned the pages as the stories progressed. 

I particularly enjoyed the retelling of The Manciple’s Tale. The Manciple tells a story about the gossiping crow. The crow, once a white bird, became black after he offended Apollo with gossip about his lover (gossip which was all true) and angry Apollo tore all his feathers out. A long white glove, with long pointed fingers, served as the bird. When the crow turned black, the narrator pulled off the glove and turned it inside out. Inside it was black. In a moment of violence, long red ribbons came loose from the eyes of the masques. The instruments included a lute, a small harp, a flute, a few different drums, and of course, the singers’ voices. The actor, as the story required, repeated again and again “cuervo” – and for reasons unknown to me, the word is more dramatic than its English equivalent.

So, go if you can (and if you like medieval music) – next three Mondays, at 8:30, in the Teatro de Bellas Artes.