El Colegio 2

Finally, two weeks in, my kids get up on time for school. It is funny how our routine and the details have changed, yet the foundation has not. I still have to encourage them to "use their words," look at me so I know they are listening, be each others' advocate instead of their enemy. But otherwise, EVERYTHING else is different. And outside of some frustrations related to their inability to communicate as they can at home, they have navigated flawlessly.

PRE-SCHOOL ROUTINE:
We get up at 8 every morning (!!! I LOVE THIS!!!!) After a breakfast of magdalenas (muffins,) galletas (breakfast cookies,) milk and juice, we leave the house at 8:45. We have a system: Hugo pushes the elevator buttons when we're going up, Atticus when we're going down. It takes forever just to lock the door; God help us if we forget something inside. I have FOUR keys to get from the street into our apartment, for goodness' sake! After a walk down the hall, an elevator ride down five floors, through the entrance hall and through two locked doors, we are on the street. We walk up a few blocks to the tiny callejón at the end of which are the white, wooden doors to the school, surrounded by brick. We do not see a single blade of grass the entire way. Trees are saturated with dog pee, cigarette butts are abundant. They open the white doors five minutes before school begins at 9, and close five minutes after. If you miss this window, you must go back down the street, walk half a block, take a right, walk a block, take another right, then another half block to the right to arrive at the main doors, where they will buzz you in twice. No one is ever late.

At our school there are students from Paraguay, China, Morocco.... With approximately 24 students per class and one class per grade, the school is small. There are four floors and the classrooms are tiny; you can imagine the raucousness as the kids walk down the tiled hallways. The teachers are wonderful, the other students are kind and vivacious. Kids thrive here, they are worshipped. People live for kids; the world revolves around them, quite literally.

SCHOOL PHASE 2:
I pick the boys up at 12:30 and we head home to eat by 1. We return to school from 2:30 until 4:30, when the shops start to open up again, having closed around 2. The boys have the option to stay in the comedor to eat lunch and play with their friends. Because they are required to eat ALL of the food on their plates and because many meals have meat, they choose to come home for now. Food is catered, but it is home-made, by far higher in quality than our lunchroom meals and they eat off of REAL dinnerware. The cost for the two additional hours, including the meal is 6,50 Euros or about $8.50. They have a variety of classes - music, art, science, English, Spanish, religion, gym - as well as many excursions. In March they will go on a three day, two night trip to a farm! Their teachers will accompany them, and the entire trip costs around $139. Most day trips run around $4. We have also had to pay around $100 per child for the "chandals" (sweatsuits) they are required to wear on gym days and excursions, as well as another $100 for books. School, however, is paid by the government. There are grants for students who cannot afford the trips so that all can participate.

At 4:30 they are done for the day! Because they do not have to wake up until 8 (seriously, this is a Godsend!) they go to sleep around 9:30 or 10. This gives us a GIANT five hour chunk of time every day to be together, outside of meal times (and if you want to add the two lunch hours to it, that is almost SEVEN hours!!! It feels so easy and relaxed, and there is a sense of connectivity that I do not feel in the US.

(I haven't figured out how to turn these around.)

School is just as demanding, and they are ahead in many respects. In Hugo's classroom, they are already reading and writing in cursive and adding and subtracting in the hundreds. Atticus says that they have a math system that seems very easy and efficient; he has yet to master it and math is one of his strengths.

Every day, twice a day, they look forward to school and have stories to tell about what they've learned. I hope it continues as such.

Week Two: The Apartment etc.

Our apartment is in a fantastic location in Madrid. We were fortunate to find something that would allow such a short-term rental contract. It is located literally kitty-corner from our friends' house, a four minute walk to school and another five minutes to El Retiro park. It is small, but we have done that before. Here is a view of our combination living and dining room.

kitchen

Bathroom and laundry room

View across apartment

Out living room window

Taken at Palacio de Cristal in the Retiro.

Turtles! Swans! Ducks! Pigeons! And literally miles of trails for walking, running, biking, roller-blading, etc. El Parque Retiro

Neighborhood gas station: it is a drive-up. You simply pull off the street onto the parking spot in front of the little casita and he will fill you up!

ADDENDUM: Today the woman responded to me who had the THREE bedroom apartment right next to the boys' school. It is only 80 Euros more per month, and is three times the size. Unfortunately, we signed a contract on this one. I could probably pay to get out of it but I'm not sure what the right option is at this point. I guess I'll sleep on it. Buenas noches.

A Love Story

Ok, I'm going to "be all gross", as my son Atticus would say. Personal stories of love are sacred to me, and not usually something I share with others, however, I am in Spain, and this culture is PASSIONATE! and VIBRANT! and full of emotion (!!). SO, I will unabashedly admit here that I am in love!!! He is about 6'2" tall, wears glasses and keeps a rather red beard (although I'll admit it gets a little too long for my liking, at times.) He is loving, compassionate, honest, hard-working, loyal, funny and sincere, but he is also the reserved ying to my extroverted yang, likes to play poker (*ack*), doesn’t exercise as often as I’d like and keeps a pile of crap beside the bed. And from this distance, I can honestly say that I wouldn’t change a thing. (Except maybe the exercise. Because that is just plain about good health.)

Our love affair began in 1987 in Mr. Preble's math class. Tall, reserved and totally authentic, he captured my fifteen-year-old self’s attention; I knew that he would play a major role in my life, somehow, and I paid attention.

Twenty-four-ish years later, he is still by my side, even from afar. This was his idea, us going to Spain- the spontaneous fruit of many years of pruning the olive tree. Over Christmas he proposed his idea, out of the blue: "What do you think about you and the boys finishing out the school year in Spain?" Just like that. As if we were just considering swimming lessons. It was the perfect idea, it felt right and five weeks later, we were on a plane.

Which seems like a funny idea for a love story. Usually the people who are in love are choosing to be TOGETHER, not apart. But we unite through our shared vision of what we would like our children to experience.

And every day he writes or calls us.

Every day he goes to work to pay the bills.
Every day he feeds the horses and cleans the corral.

He cleans the bird cage and lets her out.
He cleans the cat box, gives Roger his eye drops and his stinky wet food and lifts him onto the bed at night.

He takes the dog to work and through the drive through to get a biscuit and a coffee.
He lets the chickens in and out, collects the eggs, checks their food and water.

Every day. Just so his family can have this incredible experience, even if it means he must enjoy second-hand our tales of life with our dear friends across the continent.

Thank you, Jason. You are one of the kindest, most generous people I have ever known. I am so grateful for our life together.

(hip MT state tees from digthischick)

Week One

I'm at the point where so much has happened that it seems overwhelming to even begin to tell. So I'll just jump in as if you had asked me, "How have things been? " (Which, I might add, typically means that I verbally share any if not all of the information that flies around in my head at any given moment, typically bringing things around with a tidy wrap-up, as if one couldn't understand Z without first understanding A through Y in order.)

Things are awesome. The school is wonderful, the parents are wonderful, the kids are amazing. Our friends are amazing. Every single person we have talked to has been kind, friendly, interested and helpful. I'm not naive, and I know that it may not be this way always, but I am happy to generalize that Madrileños like 40 year old American women with exceptionally adorable children. (I may stop feeding them, to keep them young and cute.) (That is a joke. Do not call CPS. I will feed my children. But only if the food keeps them cute.)

Last week was carnaval in Madrid Carnavales 2012 and at school. The boys picked out their very first store-bought outfits and on Friday afternoon went to a party at school which I had to miss in order to finalize the acquisition of our apartment. (Night view is from our living room.) Jesús was kind enough to accompany me to help in case I had any questions concerning the legal documents I would be signing. Although my new landlord Isabel seems kind and responsible, I appreciated having a witness. All seemed to go well without a hitch (until the first day fully in the apartment when the washing machine's door handle broke off in my hand, but that is another story..)

After turning over the first month's rent and deposit, I left Jesús and Isabel, running with all 9 necessary keys in hand in order to make it to school on time. Because the boys go to el colegio from 9-12:30 and again from 2:30 to 4:30, I have two big windows to get s#*t done, yet it never seems like enough time! Our dear friend Jody arrived from Tel Aviv on Friday night, right upon showing the boys their new home. Because of our move, the timing was less than ideal to host, but she took it in stride and with great grace, as she always does. It was wonderful to see her, and I greatly look forward to settling in with her when she returns from Granada.

After a very quick tour of the apartment, we introduced Jody to the Madurga-López family and bought her ticket online to Granada. I made the casual comment that our apartment had not been thoroughly cleaned and was curious about what was expected of me when we leave. I am starting to realize that I need to be careful what I say for our friends are lurking, waiting for the opportunity to swoop in and perform their magic. In less than 30 seconds, Jose had someone scheduled from his business to come the next morning at 9 AM. (She put the couch cover on, put fresh sheets on the bed and cleaned it Spanish-style (REALLY clean.)) Seriously - no one kicks ass like these folks. No one. 

Later that evening Jody, Luzia, Jesus, the boys and I met for tapas at the neighborhood bar; this was our last evening staying at their house. These friends and their family are absolutely amazing: kind, loving, generous, reliable, patient and understanding. They warmly accommodated us for over a week, taking turns sleeping on the couch so we could have Luzia's bedroom.

We spent our last night in their house around the kitchen table, visiting with Jody and pasándolo de fruta madre (having a ducking great time) until Luzia and Jody returned to christen our apartment with their overnight presence.

SATURDAY:

In the morning we went again to the Retiro with the kids, Jody, Jose and Ana to watch the various attractions and stroll about. Puppet shows, magic shows, fortune tellers, bubble blowers, boat rides, bird watching, people watching, incredible architecture - this park is the city's jewel. It is HUGE, and merely minutes from our house on foot. On our way we pass by a churreria where you can buy churros con chocolate. If this makes you envision the disgusting churros they sell at the fair or Taco Bell, let me assure you that, outside of the shape, they have nothing in common. Churros here are meant to be eaten hot, and they are similar in taste and texture to an unsweetened old-fashioned donut right off the stove. It is typical to dip them in sugar or in a very thick hot chocolate made from - MELTED CHOCOLATE. Fine chocolate. Not that oily crap we eat in the US. Delicious. Amazing. And since you are going to walk for three hours non-stop without noticing, it is somehow ok to eat them.

After the park we went to lunch at a fabulous restaurant close to the Retiro. Lunches out are typically a minimum of two hours long, and this one was no different. Our meal consisted of:
To start: vermouth on the rocks, oven-roasted potatoes, mini-sausages for the meat-eaters, anchovy-stuffed olives (which made me love both green olives and anchovies the first time I tried them,) razor clams that dissolved as you ate them (if you love the sweet taste of slightly burned butter on the plancha you would have appreciated them greatly) naturally sweet and plump mussels that literally melted in your mouth, fish croquettes and I don't even remember what other delicious, amazing, oral-gasmic things I stuffed down my gullet. The main meal consisted of a huge pot of buttery, stewed vegetables with merluza (similar in taste and texture to lobster,) seasoned with olive oil, garlic and paprika. The bread, although it is present at EVERY Spanish meal, is always worth mentioning. We finished things off with a fine sampling of desserts: flan, pudding, ice cream and, of course, a stiff cup of perfectly brewed espresso. As a gift to the table we had our choice of their house liquors, either Paxaran - a liquor made from cinammon and fruit (which I have the recipe for!) or another from a variety of herbs. If you come to Spain for anything, it is to eat. There is a reason that there is an entire TV show based on the food from Spain, for it is practically IMPOSSIBLE to eat poorly. They take great pride in their food; it is easy to find fresh, local options for incredibly low prices by our standards. If I spend $250 at our local, organic grocery, the equivalent here is less than HALF the price.

Later in the afternoon Hugo and I took Atticus to his very first birthday party in Spain! The school is small with one class per grade but thank goodness everyone loves soccer, and he has bonded with his compañeros over the sport, especially Javi. Although Atticus is still in the input phase of language acquisition and hasn't yet gotten comfortable with so much eye contact, this boy has been kind, generous and inclusive. ALL of the kids have been kind and inclusive. To watch my child walk into a movie theater with his new friends' arms around his neck, everyone comfortable with his reservation and accepting him for who he is, brought me to tears. As for Hugo, the subway ride home, Jody's presence and the anticipation of dumping legos out onto the floor for the first time in weeks made his night.

We returned to our new apartment surprised to discover that our amazing friends had moved ALL of our things into the new place AND stocked the apartment with towels, sheets, dinnerware, cleaning supplies etc. etc. Again, amazing. (¡¡¡MUCHISIMAS GRACIAS!!!) My friend's mom Marisol had collected supplies for an entire home. Linens. Towels. Trash bags, napkins, sugar. You name it. I absolutely cannot wait to do the same for them if they ever come; it is hard to pry a Spaniard from their home base.

Marisol is an amazing, intelligent woman and incredible cook. She can carry on a profound and inspiring conversation, makes homemade chocolate truffles and has taken up painting in the last few years. Best of all, she is always smiling. I adore her.

And Ana, Luzia's mother. Any child could only hope to have a mother as dedicated as she. Kind, generous, loving, funny and hard-working, I adore her as well. I feel so fortunate to know these three women.

And now I must go to bed. More to come, I hope soon.

SUNDAY: the Langley family

Pa' que sepas...

I love how much smaller and more familiar the world has become since the Internet became mainstream. I SO appreciate this tool that allows me to share my experiences and stay in touch with interested friends and loved ones back in the US. If you are someone who has momentarily tripped into this blog, however, I think a little background may be helpful.

I came to Spain for the first time in 1994 on a university exchange program. We spent 3 months traveling throughout Spain but studying in Salamanca, a beautiful city rich in culture and history. Many of the buildings and streets are carved from a local, golden sandstone which radiates warmth and sun, and advocates the beauty found in the merger of human artistry with nature, and the passing of time itself. Although I lived with a warm, kind and considerate family, I admit that I was more than thrilled to return home to my husband at the end of the semester. As much as I appreciated Spain's incredible history, amazing food and beautiful architecture, I knew few people outside of my host family, and Spain did not yet speak to my heart.


Back at university in the States I met José from Madrid, and we hit it off from the start. To think of or be with him and his family makes me smile, as their laughter, love for Life and appreciation of Her simple things are contagious from thousands of miles away. Shortly after meeting, our lovely friend Victoria came from Salamanca, and it was through these families that the fairy-tale gift of Spain 1997 was given.

Victoria is gracious, intelligent, modest, caring and generous, traits shared with her mother, Marianela. Fresh out of college, I was looking for the experience of another exchange program, and my husband Jason and I were offered lodging in a rustic house on their working ranch. The idea was that we might live free of rent in exchange for any projects they might have that would fit Jason’s wide skill set; we should have known that their generosity would not permit an even exchange. That story is magical and for another time; I will at least profess that it profoundly changed my life for the better. The gratitude that erupts from this year in Salamanca has set in motion the beginning of many experiences and events that have enriched our lives in powerful, positive ways. I truly fell in love with Spain and her people (so cliché, I know, but so true!) and left with a new appreciation for our world and my role in it.

(I find it absolutely appropriate here to plug with admitted bias the school I attended during the above year. If you wish to go for a short or extended study-abroad, private program, Hispano Continental cannot be beat. They are simply FANTASTIC. Kind, fun, professional and dedicated, my level of Spanish will attest to their capabilities. Hispano Continental)

We have since managed to make regular connections to Spain and our friends there in some way, attempting to pay forward some of the generosity that has been shown to us. Spaniards are loyal, passionate, loving, generous and kind in general and we have yearned for our children to experience this first-hand, as we have. Although we are only a week in, I absolutely love that they have already seen how amazing our friends are, how beautiful and inspiring this culture is. If I can somehow convey here a sliver of our experiences, along with what I appreciate, what makes me return and what makes me dream of Spain, I will have been successful with this blog.