You are currently browsing the daily archive for May 6th, 2008.
Good news everyone! We just figured out (after 7 weeks) that the school (with all it’s free wifi glory) stays open late on Tuesdays (and I think Thursdays). That means we can once again torture you with unsolicited stories of our adventures! Yay!
But I digest. Here’s the real post:
This past weekend was a 4-day marathon of public spectacles in observance of May Day (the European equivalent of Labor Day, which basically means that all the French and German tourists on the continent flock to Spain) and the 200th anniversary the events of the 2nd / 3rd of May 1808 when Napoleon stormed Madrid (for no apparent reason) and the townspeople fought back, eliciting severe retribution by French troops the next day. These are the events depicted in Goya’s famous paintings, The 2nd of May and The 3rd of May 1808 (on display at the Prado. We saw them. Next to each other in a special exhibition. They’re HUGE. And super awesome. And no photo in any art history book comes close to doing them justice).
Overall the weekend was really interesting, as there were several events held throughout town to honor the anniversary (6, actually, hence the name of the weekend, 6 Goya 6). These included a free symphony concert in front of the royal palace (nice vista; made me long for my aforementioned royal holdings); a play involving gigantic marionettes (unfortunately we overslept and missed that one); and two bizarre interpretative presentations: one about the 2nd of May held in the Plaza Mayor consisting of a north African traditional band (presumably representing Napoleon’s Mamluk troops), juxtaposed against a series of junk bands mounted on truck beds, assumed to represent the rabble of Madrid; and another in Plaza Cibeles, which seemed to reenact the retributions of the 3rd of May, through the allegorical use of a pair of star-crossed lovers who lived thru the event. At least that’s what we could gather from the visuals, which, all bizarre weirdness aside were pretty cool. In the Plaza Mayor, there was a huge wheel mounted with pre-tuned guitars which was manually rotated around a stationery pick to produce a song…interesting; in Cibeles, there was a huge metal truss from which a number of people were suspended, all dressed in the white tunic and yellow pants of the hero of Goya’s painting, who were then metaphorically shot by a series of bright lights and machine gun sounds coming from the building behind them, leading them to writhe and wriggle in mid-air. Rather impressive. Oh, and there was a 30-foot tin foil woman who had a person sitting in her chest cavity that opened up to reveal him. We never actually saw the final production of the Cibeles show as we were at the palace, but we stumbled upon the dress rehearsal the night before and it looked pretty interesting. And we figured that was enough.
As cool as all these things were, the truly impressive aspect of the weekend—and of all the Festivals we’ve experienced so far—is the amazing speed and stealth with which the Madrid Department of Fiestas sets up and tears down the sets in the hours surrounding the events. For example, the Cibeles show had a huge 3-part stage, 4 smaller stages, a full light / sound show, 2 enormous construction cranes and a highwire strung between two adjacent buildings and anchored to the street below (not to mention the Aluminum woman and the truss of dead guys). All this went up in a matter of an afternoon and was torn down by noon the next day. Ridiculous. Same thing with the Real Madrid victory party: we walked thru the Plaza at 9p, there was nothing. By 1130p, there was a stage, 6 light / sound towers, a huge PA system and a dj, along with miles of retaining fence which closed off 3 main thoroughfares. And this achieved by a culture not renowned for its vitesse. Now that’s mindbottling.
Additionally, there were a ton of people out in the streets and general joyful pandemonium throughout, though the hordes of French May Day tourists all seemed a bit skittish, and probably for good reason…probably should have done your research, Messieurs…
Viva la Revolución!
-bdmc
Last night Real Madrid won their 31st league championship. We didn’t even realize they were playing until we heard a lot of yelling and honking coming from the street. Our roommate poked her head outside her door and asked if Real Madrid had won. Of course, we stared blankly back at her with no answer. After a short time listening to the shouts from the streets, we figured that they must have won, so we decided to head down to Cibeles (a main intersection / roundabout / plaza near the Prado where fans congregate following a Real Madrid victory). We walked the short distance to Paseo del Prado, which had been shut down to traffic in anticipation of the large crowds of people walking to Cibeles, and made our way up to the plaza. For anyone who hasn’t been to Madrid, Paseo del Prado is a MAJOR THOROUGHFARE in a large city. And they SHUT IT DOWN for a soccer game. MC said to me as we were leaving the apartment, “I want to see some burning couches and overturned cars, or I won’t be convinced that these soccer fans really know how to riot.” Although we didn’t see anything burning or even any cars in the vicinity, let alone overturned cars, we decided that completely shutting down a major road and plaza is a pretty good start to celebrating a victory.
When we got to the plaza, it was already pretty full, and more and more people kept coming. According to the Real Madrid website today, almost 200,000 people packed into the area. The city had set up a big “stage” for the players and there was a dj playing pop music and also what seemed to be the “hang on sloopy” of Real Madrid. We danced a little with the madrileños, but it was a little difficult to sing along since we weren’t sure what the words were. In fact, we spent our entire time in the plaza trying not to make it too obvious that not only did we not even know that Real Madrid was playing, we also know nothing about soccer and we didn’t even really understand what exactly Real Madrid had won. (After hearing “campeones! campeones!” and “treinta y uno! treinta y uno!” over and over again, we finally figured it out.)
We arrived at Cibeles around 11:30pm, and at 1:30am, when the team had still not appeared, we decided to head home. I was hoping to get some pictures of the team for my madrileño brother, but alas, I had no staying power. And, after reading the Real Madrid website this morning, I’m glad that we left when we did. Apparently, the game wasn’t even in Madrid, and the team didn’t return to their own stadium until 2:30am, where they were seen exiting the team bus and entering the locker room with bottles of champagne. Which means that they couldn’t have gotten to Cibeles until around four in the morning. Which means that a plaza full of 200,000 people waited at least three hours for the team to show up. Now that’s dedication. I’m still not convinced that soccer is a better sport than football (americano, that is), but I am pretty impressed by the fans.
* or maybe the idea of soccer
-cuptastic
Our internet access went out at our apartment last Wednesday, sending me into a dimension of pissed off I didn’t even know existed. And not that a lack of internet access is all that worrisome; when compared to quadriplegia, it pales. And significantly.
I know this.
But when in the midst of job / apartment searching and finalizing plans for the remainder of our stay here, a sudden, inexplicable lack of internet access is a big freakin’ deal. Especially when it is your sole form of communication with the outside world (we don’t have cell phones, the apartment phone doesn’t work and there’s no TV). And when viewed as the only self-controllable aspect within our less-than-ideal living environment consisting of a troupe of college-age Swedes content with living on the edge of such squalor that the health department is considering condemning the entire 40-unit buildling on account of their filth, and who are intent on getting ripped to the nines every weekend night and reaffirming for the umpteenth consecutive time that, no, the paper-thin walls of the apartment STILL don’t muffle your raucous 6 AM return and subsequent hour-long drunken recap of the night you just experienced, then, yeah, the lack of internet access suddenly became a big deal.
At any rate, after Al talked me down off the ledge, she kindly reminded me that, despite all my proclamations to the contrary, I—unlike Richard III—had no kingdom to give in exchange for a return of my internet access. Or for anything else for that matter. She then refreshed my memory of all the things for which I have purportedly offered my supposed kingdom during our visit thus far, thereby leaving me in no state to offer it yet again. These include (in no particular order):
• A clean apartment
• A normal-size shower
• Hot water that doesn’t cut out in the middle of said shower
• A clothes dryer
• A clothes washer that holds more than a pair of jeans, a sock and one t-shirt at a time
• A vacuum cleaner
• Thicker, sound-proof apartment walls
• A complete grasp of the Spanish verb structure and all its permutations
• Our own apartment
…etc, etc, etc, all of which, I felt at the time of utterance, were worthy exchanges for my imagined regal holdings.
Upon realizing that I, in fact, HAVE no regal holdings (as yet…working on that one), I was forced to reevaluate my position and clarify the real reasons we’re here, namely: the Prado, the park, the monuments, the food, the language, the sun, the culture, the friendly (though wrong-side-of-the-sidewalk-walking) people, the wine, the cheap (but realllly cold) beer, the history, the smells and the otherwise FREAKING AWESOME TIME we’re having. Could be worse, eh?
-bdmc
P.S.: Please note that all kingdom-worthy aspects are related to our apartment or its state, indicating my overall pleasant contentment with our situation in general. I think, as a 28-year-old veteran of communal collegiate living / previous study abroad experiences, I am officially done with living in student housing with other students. And not like I haven’t given it a fair shake. Now I’m just certain.
P.P.S.: The internet currently remains out at the apartment, nearly a week later, thanks to our oh-so-easy-to-get-a-hold-of landlady…get this: she gives us her land line and her cell number, but doesn’t answer her land line and the apartment phone only calls its voicemail…work that one out. Good thing nothing’s caught on fire. Come to think of it, that may be a great way to get her attention….
P.P.P.S. (and yes, I just went there.): We are spending the bare minimal amount of time (awake) in the apartment, so our actual interaction with aforementioned internet-less squalor is fairly minimal. The kicker is that when we WERE using the internet, it was late at night when we weren’t missing anything outside. Now that we have to forage for free wifi, it’s cramping our style a bit. That’s the only down side and the reason for a lack of recent posts…we know you’re all crushed.
