SPAIN
Well, Grässlin has talked about sending me to visit my supervisor in Madrid since they first offered me the job, back in December, but I had been scheduled to go twice, and both times it fell through. But last month things somehow magically worked out, and I landed in Madrid on Friday the thirteenth. It was my first time in the Mediterranean, and it was beautiful. If you're interested, I recommend checking out my new photo albums on Facebook, though I still haven't added my last roll of film. (Espania I: <http://www.facebook.com/
My first hotel, Francisco I, was a seemingly ancient building (although this word has different connotations in Europe than North America, I think) right in the heart of the old city, and was rich with the languishing beauty of centuries past. My room was large and comfortable, but covered with oppressively dark-stained wood, and permeated by the unusual and equally oppressive smell of popsicle sticks (and occassionally turnip). The room fee included a "continental breakfast", which consisted primarily of cupcakes, cornsyrup, and orange Tang, and was probably the most disappointing breakfast experience of my life, except possibly the time I made peanut butter omelets.
Actually, I was generally unimpressed with much of the food I ate there. For example, I was in what looked like a really authentic sandwich shop, and I saw something called "Tortilla Espania" on the menu. I was expecting chicken, beef, tomatoes, hot peppers and possibly cheese; I got deep-fried mashed potatoes on white bread with salt. The beer was ok though... or at least it was cold. And I would be remiss and malfeasant not to mention the delicious Spanish wine, and the delightful tradition of serving a small appetizer along with every glass. Not to mention, I finally got to try kangaroo at a particularly excellent restaurant during my last night there. (In case you're wondering, it was, in texture and in taste, suprisingly like beef.)
Aside from the parks, and museums, the cuisine, and the night life, I stumbled upon a production of Disney's Beauty and the Beast playing the first night I was there! I have to say, I thought Gaston was a little weak, but who am I to judge? The staging and props were really phenomenal, so that sort of made up for it. That, and the smug sense of self-satisfaction.
BULL FIGHTING AND THE POLICE
The second night I was wandering around the town, and I happened upon the Bull Fighting Stadium! There were about a hundred people hanging around outside the door, and upon inquiry, it turns out that they were waiting in line to get tickets for the fight the next day, when the ticket office opened at 10AM. While I was rushing back to my hotel room to grab my coat, some food, and possibly a blanket, I convinced myself that if I stayed in my room overnight, and came first thing the next morning, I would still be in a good spot in line. Well, I was almost right.
I got up at five, the subway opened at six, and I was in line by 6:15. Tragically, I missed the hotel breakfast, but I probably extended my lifespan by 2 - 5 years as a result. Some guy took the initiative to get the names and positions of everyone in line, and I was number 260. There was a very famous and beloved fighter to be competing that day, and there were rumoured to be 1000 tickets for sale at the ticket booth, with a limit of 2 per person. Things were looking good; then the police came.
The first thing the police did was line us all up, single file, according to the list that the guy gave them. After that, things got a bit more shadowy. I'm not sure exactly what happened, but after waiting for four or five hours on the stone plaza, wondering what was taking so long, seeing people being allowed to cut in line by those upstanding public servants, seeing people walking away with a tall stack of tickets, and being told in no uncertain terms that photography was not allowed, I was told to go home; there were no more tickets. And that was my first experience with police corruption.
TRAVELLING HOME AND THE TEST DAF
So that was some of my experience in Madrid. I spent the next few days in the office, just outside the city proper. The work aspect was actually pretty interesting. For those of you whom I haven't told, my work has mostly consisted of doing a lot of quite boring market research into new control possibilities for the company (e.g. for solar thermal systems), and as it turns out, all my work had been building up to those few days in Spain, where we discussed new product platforms that the company would like to implement in the next couple of years. So it was quite enjoyable to be able to really contribute something to the conversation, and to see how that aspect of a company works.
Once that was all done with, I left early in the morning to catch the plane back to Zurich, where I was driven directly to my German class, as the next morning was my German fluency test, and I didn't want to miss an additional chance to prepare. (I should note that, in addition to an exhausting schedule of travelling, after the last day of meetings, we all went out until much too late, and I was looking forward to a good night's sleep before my test the next morning.) Well, on my way to the train station after my German course, luggage still in hand, I ran into a police blockade. Apparently some construction workers dug up a bomb from the second world war. Right next door to the station. To make a long story short, I got home sometime around midnight.
The next morning I got through the first three components of the four hour German fluency test with the aid of my two friends, caffeine and adrenaline. However by the time I got to the fourth and final component, I was running out of steam. The test consisted of reading and listening comprehension, writing ability, and speaking ability. I believe I did rather well on the first three components (though I will not receive any marks for another couple of weeks), but the speaking component, which is my weakest to begin with, was carried out with the skill and eloquence of a drunken lemur. Sigh.
FOOTBALL FEVER
For those of you who don't know, Germany was a finalist in the European Football Championship this year, and this seems to curiously coincide with a particular affliction on the logical capacity of its fans. For example, a typical conversation during a game would go like this:
My Host Mother, "Can you believe that?! That was definitely the Italian's fault, but they gave a yellow card to our player!"
Me, watching the slow replay clearly showing a German turning around and pushing an Italian player with little provocation, "Actually, I think it was pretty clear that the German hit the Italian first. In fact, I can hardly think of a way that he could have deserved a yellow card more."
My Host Sister, "No, it was definitely the Italian's fault."
Me, "Umm.... ok."
But in any case, the whole football culture is a lot of fun. People drive around with little flags on their cars, or hang flags out their windows, or wear flags as capes, or paint flags on their faces. I think any embarassment over displaying patriotism is for the majority, long dead. I attended a public viewing of the game between Turkey and Germany, and I have to say it was pretty much exactly what you see on movies like EuroTrip or Beer Fest. A large auditorium full of painted, flag-waving, drunken, singing, yelling, fighting university students. The Turks would chant something, and the Germans would just come back louder. Ah! what a time!
BEER CULTURE
Speaking of beer; as I mentioned, my host sister came back from Brazil a couple of weeks ago, and as it turns out, her father is a member of a local sports club, and had volunteered to help out with a local event the same day she came home. Of course he couldn't make it, so he sent me instead. Helping out at a local event with a sports club translates as draughting Pils at the beer tent, and I must say, it was a good time. There were about seven of us in the booth, whereas about four were actually needed, so those who were not immediately engaged in pouring beer, tended to be engaged in drinking it. But I learned the ancient German art of beer pouring, which
Ah, what else? Perhaps I should tell you about the summer festivals and the Stadtfest, or "city festival", that happened this past weekend. Well Friday night was the summer festival held by my company, Grässlin. Well the food and drink was great, and the best thing was one of those number-of-jelly-beans-in-the-
CONCLUSION
So those are a few things that happened to me in the past while. As of today, I have five weeks and two days left here. It will fly by, I'm sure. And I just got an e-mail from my parents on Friday saying they bought me a car for when I return! Yee haw! It seemed to me that I had something else to tell you, but alas, it has slipped my mind. In any case, I will have something left to tell you when I return. Anyway, I am much too tired to continue writing, or to proof-read this e-mail, so I think I will send this, and then it's time for some "office sleep", as my host father says. As always, I love to hear back from you, so if you have some time, send me a message and tell me how things are going with you. And, although I likely have but a single note left to send you, if you know anyone that would like to read it, let me know and I will add them to my mailing list. Next month I am planning to go to Serbia and possibly Scotland, so hopefully something interesting will happen.
Anyway, thanks for reading, and until next time,
Greg
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