A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Flamenco

As I sat down to write this latest update, I realized that there were a few things I wanted to talk about in depth that would probably be best served as separate entries (that way it won't be cold by the end:-)) So here goes with the first of a 4 part series detailing the past two weeks. . .



The Comunidad de Madrid (the local government) sponsored a series of flamenco shows (called "Cumbre Flamenca") in a metro station in mid-September. Yes, you read right. They built a 3000 person covered theater in the middle of the station. And it was free to all comers. We did stand in line for two and a half hours to get in, but it was worth it. I went to the last night, which was sort of what the previous nights were leading up to. The two performers are apparently flamenco superstars, and getting them to perform, let alone together, was a big coup for the Comunidad. The man, "Pansequito" (né José Cortés Jiménez) sang--I always associated flamenco with dancing (you know, the castanets and scarves and twirling skirts), I didn't realize it is a form and style of music as well. I mean, I had a vague idea of what flamenco music was, but hadn't given much thought to the singing aspect. Anyway, Pansequito sang in a style that, to me, sounded at times like a muezzin's call to prayer; very nasal, alot of vibration and elongation of words. This is probably getting repetitive, but flamenco did originate in southern Spain, where Moorish influence is the strongest, so the image it evoked in me is probably not coincidental; Flamenco incorporates Arab, Spanish, and Gypsy motifs. The songs were also slower, more simple (just a voice, a guitar, and some clapping), and more raw sounding than what my concept of flamenco was before the concert.

The other singer was a woman named Aurora Vargas. According to the program, she played Carmen opposite Plácido Domingo, and is known for her mastery of both singing and dancing. Initially, she sang--it was very dramatic and expressive and intense (I think she's a bit of a diva, but she certainly has the talent and years of experience to back up her attitude). Like with Pansequito, the songs sounded more like laments and exhortations and story-songs (I couldn't understand a word, though) than the fast-pace rhythms I associated with flamenco. I'll admit, I was a little disappointed when I thought I wasn't going to see any dancing, but then during her second to last song she jumped up with a flourish and started spinning and stomping and waving her scarf (no castanets). It was incredibly sensual and suggestive and aggressive, all about the power of the woman. It was whatever the opposite of machismo is, if there's a word for that. . .

I should also mention the other artists in the performance; a guitarist who acccompanied both singers (amazing), and two men billed as "palmas" (palms) whose sole purpose was to clap. Not to say it's an easy job--their movements were highly stylized, with very precise, fluid motions that brought the palms together for an almost muted clapping sound as they kept time with the guitar, and small steps forwards and backwards following the beat.


We were assured by other Spaniards we knew that this performance was the real deal, "pure" flamenco and not just a show for tourists. I have no basis for comparison, but the combination of the unconventional location, the fact that it was free to the public, and the artistry involved made it a really incredible communal and individual experience. Clap clap clap.

And now, allow me to rewind a couple hours to when we were waiting in line. Originally, there were four of us (all grantees). One friend arrived early and was almost at the front of the line. When I arrived with two others, we cut in through the gate to stand with her (which I hate doing). The people behind us didn't seem to mind. As the evening went on, however, more Fulbrighters kept coming and cutting into the line (people we didn't expect but were happy to see). Spaniards are not as much of a line-abiding people as Americans, so we certainly weren't the only group line-jumping liberally, but the scale became kind of ridiculous and I felt bad, so at one point I turned around to the group behind us and said, in Spanish, that I was sorry for all the cutting and that we didn't know there would be this many people, thank you for your patience, etc. The woman was laughing, and said "yes, I think all the Americans in Madrid are right here, no?" Then she asked, "Do you all have grants?". Yes, I said. "Fulbright?" She asked. Um. . .yes, in fact. "Oh my gosh! I had an intercambio with a Fulbright girl last year!". Now, an "intercambio" is an exchange between people who speak two different languages, where they meet for conversations and help each other improve their language skills. People find intercambio partners online, or often through international networking groups. So this woman had had a great intercambio experience last year with a (now) former Fulbrighter.

But is gets weirder. She asked us if we knew "Erica", her intercambio buddy. My friend, Alex, who was standing next to me, asked "You don't mean Erica X, do you?". "Oh my gosh! Yes!". Turns out, Alex knows Erica because she replaced her as the Fulbright Teaching Assistant at her school this year. Alex and Erica had been in email contact for months, and Erica had even mentioned this friend she had made through an intercambio. This friend was Henar, a lawyer and native Madrileño, and the woman standing right behind us line for flamenco. We spent a few minutes with bilingual exclamations of "no way" "amazing" "what are the odds?" etc. We exchanged email addresses, and a took a picture of Alex with Henar to send to Erica, and this past Friday we all met up for drinks and tapas in the city.

So that was my first encounter with flamenco, one of the most common images associated with Spain (along Don Quixote, paella, and bullfighting). Next, what happens when a city already known for its nightlife stages an an all-night festival? Find out in Part II. . .

p.s. The pictures included in this post do not do the set-up or the music justice, but it was the best I could do. I did record some short videos of the concert in action, but they were too big to upload here :-).

Toledo

As I mentioned in my previous entry, two of my flatmates invited me to join them for a day trip to Toledo, only a 30 minute high-speed train ride south of Madrid. We took the first train out in the morning and the last one back at night. We spent the day covering as much of the city as possible. It's a really beautiful place that has many buildings that have been conserved or maintained in their original form from the Golden Age of Toledo (approx 8th-15th century). Madrid is also full of interesting and varied architecture, but Toledo, with it's narrow, winding streets, spectacular vistas, and blend of Christian and Muslim architecture, has a very different feel--the history is something palpable. We were so impressed with just the train station, we joked that we would just stay there all day (the train station is obviously not that old--built 1920--but was built in the same style as the city).


























Toledo is known for many things. For centuries, it was (and still is) a center for steel and weapons manufacture. Thus, every souvenir shop proudly displayed its knives, swords, and armor. A bit disconcerting, to be honest:-). Toledo is also, apparently, a top producer of Marzapan. A few stores had huge Marzipan replicas of the main Cathedral.

Toledo is also a city that historically enjoyed a coexistence of Christian, Muslim, and Jewish cultures. This period of religious tolerance (" la conviviencia") began when Toledo was under Islamic rule and lasted until the expulsion of the Muslims and Jews during the Inquisition (1492, the same year Columbus 'discovered' America for Spain). You can see these influences everywhere, in the architecture, the folk art, and even in the Cathedrals (more on that later). There is still a "Jewish quarter" in Toledo that contains two synagogues, both of which were converted into churches (the synagogues have names like Santa Maria la Blanca:-)). One was later refurbished to resemble the original synagogue, and is now a museum of the history of Toledo's Jews. It was nteresting to see how colorful and lively the Sephardic (Mediteranean and North African Jews) culture was portrayed--a big contrast to the more austere and solemn Ashkenazi (Eastern European Jews) culture. Walking through this museum highlighted how similar Sephardic and Moorish culture really was (is?).




























One of the main tourist attractions in Toledo is the Cathedral, and the word that comes to mind to describe the Cathedral is random. To begin with, it is a huge structure, with small capillas (chapels) dedicated to saints encircling the main altars. I say random not only because of the mix of mediums (sculpture, painting, fresco, wood carvings, gold), but the mix of symbolism and styles. Some areas appeared positively pagan; dragons, unicorns and other mythological imagery intertwined with biblical figures. Some areas appeared, at least to me, to resemble a mosque more than a church due to the use of blue at the apex of the dome and the reliance on patterns. The choir area where the ceiling-high organ resided had a continuous wood carving stretching across every chair depicting the battle of Granada when the Spanish reconquered the city from the Moors (that has admittedly religious undertones, but it felt very temporal for a church). The main altar is an elaborate, floor to ceiling depiction of events from the New Testament in the Gothic style (according to the guidebook:-)). Finally, the church also had a small collection of El Greco paintings and an exhibit of bishop's robes through the ages, and on top of everything there was a military wedding going on in one of the chapels, in the midst of all the tourists and loudspeaker announcements warning us not to take pictures using a flash.































As we walked around the vast Cathedral, my friend commented that she always feels conflicted visiting Cathedrals like this because of their ostentatiousness. She doesn't consider herself a religious person, but she sees hypocrisy in emphasizing gold and grandeur when Christianity preaches humility and depicts Christ as living in poverty. With all the time and effort and expensive materials that went into these towering monuments, she wondered how many people in Toledo were starving as the Cathedral was being built. It's one thing to visit these places as a tourist and be in awe of the sheer magnitude and artistry involved, it is another to think about them from this kind of perspective. As someone who is very interested in how cultures express their religiosity, I was surprised to realize that I had never given much thought to the inherent tension between showing devotion in materialistic ways and being humble before one's god. I know this isn't a new concept/issue by any means, but the way my friend phrased it really struck me, and I couldn't stop thinking about it the rest of the day.

There are also two Mosques ("mesquitas") in Toledo, but unfortunately they were closed to visitors by the time we reached them. We had a dinner on one of the side streets, saw a bit more of the city (one of the main plazas, the military academy, more marzipan...), and walked back to the train station at sunset. Ben, one of the three friends I traveled with, was the official photographer and took some amazing pictures around Toledo with a very high quality-camera--they are too big to upload onto this blog, but if anyone is interested I'd be happy to send you the highlights:-).


Stay tuned to for tales of not-teaching, flamenco in the subway, and a night in white. . .

Orientation/Moving In

My plan for this blog was to write one entry per week, however, the amount of things to talk about from this past week is making that a daunting task. Still, I'll try to summarize the most important aspects here.

The Fulbright orientation lasted from Mon-Wed, and consisted of a series of welcomes from various Spanish and English affiliates (the Commision in Spain, the U.S. Embassy, the Comunidad de Madrid, etc), briefings on aspects of living and working in Spain (the education system, economic development, immigration, safety issues) as well as Model UN training for secondary teaching assistants like myself.

A quick explanation of this latter topic; Model UN is an American program originally conceived for the college level, then adapted to the high school level, and the organization that started it (UNUSA.org) has recently begun exporting it to other countries through an initiative called "Global Classrooms". Now there are high school age students all over the world researching complex political issues, learning formal rules of debate, honing public speaking and negotiating skills, and writing policy papers and resolutions, all in a second language. I'm very interested to see how this plays out in practical terms in the classroom, where the Global Classrooms project is part of the curriculum. I will be responsible for guiding the students through the process, from learning the rules of debate through researching topics through presenting the points of view of different countries. I'm still not exactly clear on the details of how this will work, which is a bit unnerving given I am, as my coordinator said, the "jefe" of Model UN at the school:-). But, like many things here, I'll figure it out as I go along.

Whatever philosophical and practical issues I may have with the UN itself, I like how this program (which is run by a non-profit NOT affiliated with the UN) gives students an awareness of the international dimensions of salient issues, exposes them to different perspectives, and shows them how difficult it can be to reach an international consensus. I believe in the value of understanding context as a means of effecting change, and in some ways, I think this kind of program achieves the goal of international cooperation better than the actual UN, where cynicism outweighs idealism. With these students, perhaps that balance hasn't yet shifted. It will be challenging for me to remain neutral throughout this program, and not let my personal views about the ineffectiveness and limitations of the UN (at least its political arm) affect how I approach things.

Getting back to orientation, one of the interesting things I learned about Spain is that, despite its image as a very casual, relaxed culture, Spaniards actually work the longest hours on average of any European nation. However, there is still a very strong "work hard, play hard" attitude. As one official explained, it is common for people to be out until 3 or 4 in the morning. . .but you still have to get up for work at 7:00:-). Dinner isn't until 9:00 at the earliest, and many restaurants don't open until then. There is still "siesta" during the workday, a two hour period in the afternoon (usually about 3-5) when most stores and businesses close, and people go to cafes or go home for a snack or a rest.

I have experienced a more casual approach to things in general. For example, I went to a staff meeting at my school on Thursday; half the teachers were in jeans(the dress code is alot more relaxed), the meeting that was supposed to start at 12:30 didn't start until 1:00 because everyone decided to go for coffee first, and the topics they were discussing were things I was surprised to hear the day before school started--like what kind of AV equipment they wanted to request for their classrooms. In fact, as of today, I do not know my class schedule because the teachers still didn't know theirs when I met with them on Thursday. The teachers were very casual with each other, joking and and touching arms, necks, backs affectionately, arguing with each other very directly and without the pretense of politeness I would expect between American colleagues. Granted, I have never been to a department staff meeting in the US, but I imagine that, no matter how friendly the teachers are with each other, there is more formality involved. Along these lines, I have learned that the use of the formal "Ud" form of address is not used as frequently as it used to be. The only person I have encountered so far in which I was told to use the Ud form was the Principal of my school. In general, the areas in which I expected more formality have been more relaxed (i.e. professional relationships) and the areas I expected less rigidity have been more formal (i.e. anything dealing with local government).

Aside from Fulbright side of things, I'm still exploring Madrid whenever I can. I went to the Prado Museum on Sunday (when it's free), and my friend and I have expanded our "adventure walks" well beyond the neighborhoods around our orientation residence. We went to the Avenida de América area, which is mainly businesses and upscale hotels, but also alot of embassies. Places like the Italian consulate are housed in pretty pastel-colored buildings reminiscent of country villas. During our walk, we came upon one large, ugly structure with bars on the windows and police tanks out front. "That must be a prison", I commented to my friend, "kind of a weird place for a prison, no?". "Um, Talia", she said, looking at the entrance, "I think that's the American embassy".



After the Prado, my friend suggested a place in Sol, which is the center of the center of Madrid, for a group of us to eat. It is called Demontaditos, and it specializes in small bocadillos (baguette sandwiches). There is a whole menu and you check off the kinds you want (manchego cheese with honey is my favorite so far); each bocadillo is about a euro, so you can have a fantastic meal for cheap. Having lived more or less like a rabbit for a week at the residencia (vegetarian options were not a specialty--think lots of salad and pieces of fruit), this was the best meal I've had in Madrid thus far. Anyone who comes to visit can expect to be taken there. Just saying.

On Thursday, I officially moved into my apartment. So far, it's been great. I like all the flatmates (all 7 of them), and I'm sad that most of them are leaving in October. I hope I get as lucky with the new people (fingers crossed). The first night, my flatmate Cecile (French) invited me to go to Toledo with her and our other flatmate Anne (German) and Anne's boyfriend on Saturday, which I did (I'm going to write a separate entry about that trip). I was really flattered to be asked after a five minute conversation, a gesture consistent with the openness I've experienced with Europeans my age so far (I have no illusion that everything is perfect here and I'm sure I will meet some not-so-nice people; I've just been incredibly lucky up to this point).

I've also been the beneficiary of some excellent home-cooked meals; one of my Greek flatmates made an amazing fish and vegetable dish, and basically dumped half of it on my plate, unsolicited. The next night, there was an almost all-flatmate spaghetti dinner (6 of us plus three guests) courtesy of an Italian girl who is crashing on the couch while she looks for an apartment. Then yesterday, I helped (well, I washed dishes and watched) while Anne made a fried dough dish with pisto (pisto is sort of a Spanish version of ratatouille), which I was also invited to share. I say all this because I think I've become known in the piso as "the American who doesn't cook", and my flatmates are taking pity on me. This may be an unfortunate reinforcement of an American stereotype (TV-dinner eating couch potatoes), but I can't say this perception is entirely untrue in my case; I'm not a great cook, and I've been fortunate/spoiled to always be around someone who is (my sister, my college roommate, my boyfriend). I of course make my own meals, but certainly nothing as elaborate as what my flatmates do on a daily basis. Maybe now is my big chance to branch out. . .


I've already had a number of interesting conversations with my flatmates. Four of them are French, but they speak Spanish when I'm around, which I really appreciate. In fact, I think I may be picking up Spanish with a French accent--I've caught myself with certain words a few times already:-). My most challenging experience so far was trying to explain the electoral college in Spanish:-). I also had a conversation about 9/11, and discussed the differences in basketball rules between Europe and the NBA. The European basketball ("baloncesto") championship was this week (the games were actually in Madrid) and Spain made it to the final, only to lose to Russia by one point in the final minute. A very exciting game--I watched it last night. It all came down to the "tiros libres" (foul shots).

This week I begin working at the school--I'm both excited and anxious to start. Hasta pronto!

Estoy Aqui!

It is my first Saturday in Madrid, the end of a long but productive week. I can't believe I've been here since Monday. It was a smooth arrival--I met up with two other Fulbrighters on the flight, and we made our way together to the residencia (dormitory) where we will be staying through orientation. My first official exchange in Spanish was in the airport when I asked the man at information, "Buscamos Aerocity, sabes donde está?" (We're looking for Aerocity, do you know where it is?). I was very proud of myself until he answered and I only caught the word "telefono" and I had to ask him to repeat himself "más despacio, por favor" (more slowly, please). That put a quick stop to my inflated sense of Spanish mastery:-).



Madrid's metro system is amazing. After living in Los Angeles for a year, it is so refreshing to see a mass transit system so extensive and used by all manner of people. Madrid is a huge metropolis, but in reality many different areas are geographically very close to each other, and the metro shortens these distances even more. However, you run the risk of running into an embracing couple every time you turn a corner. I stopped noticing the couples engaged in various forms of PDA, it's so common. A couple people here have told me that one reason for this is that many young people (students, professionals) live with their parents until their 30s, and many others rent rooms from older señoras, so there is very little privacy at home--public places are thus actually more "private" in the anonymity and freedom they afford. So the metro, parks, etc can get very graphic:-).

The first priority for all of us grantees was finding a piso (apartment). We're all looking for shared apartments, wanting the opportunity to live with Spanish speakers and branch out of the Fulbright circle. I got incredibly lucky; my second day, I was able to set up a visit to a piso through a landlady whom I'd actually been corresponding with for a couple weeks. Miraculously, the room was still available when I arrived (pisos go quickly in this city). The place is in a great area called Bilbao (known for its cafes and young culture, well located to the rest of central Madrid), literally about 4 feet from the Bilbao metro station. There are nine rooms, all rented to girls in their 20s, all students or interns, from all over (France, Germany, Australia, Peru, one other American). I met a few of the flatmates when I visited, extremely nice and welcoming and best of all, the common language is Spanish, so I'll really be forced to practice. The piso itself is great, two common areas, high ceilings, lots of natural light, and a huge kitchen that looks like something you'd find in a hostel--it is kind of like a hostel, really, but cleaner and without the sense of transience. I called the landlady the next day to arrange to give her the deposit and collect the keys. I will not start living there until after orientation (this Thursday), but at least I've been able to move some of my things into the apartment.

Before I left the night I visited, two of the girls gave me their number and said we should hang out even if I don't end up taking the room. I've found that alot here--people my age seem more relaxed and casual about meeting new people, and more open to new relationships. In my apartment search, there were a few people who got back to me to say "Sorry, the room is no longer available, but give me a call when you get to Madrid if you want to grab a cup of coffee". It's a different vibe than I'm used to, but I like it. And speaking of nice people, the other grantees I've met so far have also been amazing almost without exception. There has been a real effort to help each other out with the apartment search and figuring out metro passes and just navigating the city in general. There's sort of an absence of competition that has made this week a lot less stressful than it easily could have been.



So other than piso hunting, I've been exploring the area around the residencia, taking "adventure walks" with a friend I've met here where we just wander in no particular direction and often find unexpected ways in which parts of the city connect. Many buildings have these beautiful, brightly colored and/or ornate facades, making some feel more mediterranean than others. The Arab influence on Spanish culture is more strongly apparent in the south (Madrid is in the center of Spain), but you can still see it here alongside the more dominant Catholic themes. I remember reading somewhere that the names given to public places (streets, parks, etc) give insight into what the culture values, or at least valued at one point. For instance, in the U.S. there are alot of things named after politicians. In Spain, there are alot of things named after a) military men and b) Catholic saints. Since the role of Catholocism in Spanish culture is part of my secondary project, I'm excited to delve into this more deeply in the coming months.

I've also been out at night with a group of grantees, just chatting at an outside table until they took all the other tables and chairs away and we realized we should probably go. What I love about going for a drink here is that, if you sit down, they normally bring you complimentary tapas with your wine or beer. At this particular place, the more we ordered, the more elaborate the tapas became (we went from olives and pistachios to chips to bread and cheese). Delicious, and better for your stomach if you're drinking.



Yesterday I went back to Atocha, which is the central train station in Madrid (also the site of the Al-Queda bombings in 2004). The most distinctive thing about Atocha is the huge atrium in the middle of the concourse. With turtles in the water. If you only saw a picture, you may think it was the rainforest section of a zoo. After Atocha, I went with my friend to the Parque Retiro area, where she was looking at a piso, which she ultimately took. Retiro is a huge public park in Madrid (like Central Park in New York), really beautiful, where I'm looking forward to walking around in the future.


Then today, a few of us walked to the Gran Via (the main touristy artery of Madrid) from the residencia through the northwest area close to my apartment--about a 40 minute walk, but very pleasant, filled with more breathtaking buildings. We visited the Plaza de España, a small park with a huge monument in honor of Miguel de Cervantes, without question the most celebrated writer in Spain ( he wrote Don Quixote). The man is worshipped here. In the picture, Cervantes sits at the top, looking down on Don Quixote and his sidekick, Sancho Panza. The sculpture on the left is Dulcinea, Don Quixote's love, as he imagined her (like a Greek goddess), and on the right is the peasant woman she really was (all this was told to me by a fellow Fulbrighter who is a Cervantes devotee). I thought this was a very neat choice to highlight the novel's theme of the power of imagination (although I have to say I haven't read it yet, but I will feel sacreligious if I haven't read it by the time I leave Spain).