Today was a totally free day, and I basically did nothing. I slept in super late today, even though I did not end up going out last night. At nine or ten I think I heard people, like a lot of people, making animal noises somewhere on the street. I don't know if that has anything to do with today's feast day, which was for Santa Maria de la Cabeza, or St. Maria Torribia. I guess they still have her head as a relic, which is why she's called Santa Maria de la Cabeza.
So I just laid around awhile, because we don't have homework yet, and eventually convinced myself to go run. It was tough, as I've figured out that if I go one night without washing my hair, it accumulates roughly as much nastiness as it would in maybe four or five days here. How does that happen? Anyway, I pulled it back and put on a headband and bit the bullet.
I decided to go running at el Parque del Buen Retiro, even though my teacher had specifically discouraged us from running there. I'd seen some runners there on Sunday.
[Side note: I'd also been considering Retiro as a place to practice with this baseball player who's in the program, but Retiro can be a little sketchy, and I just kept envisioning myself laying out for a ground ball in the grass and coming up with a discarded needle in my arm. So I stuck to the pathways today.]
I didn't bring a watch (I know, I should have listened to you, Mom) and I haven't been able to put money on my cell yet, so I had no concept of time. It probably took about 20 or 30 minutes to get there by Metro- I'm not sure. All I know is, when I went down into the Marañon station, it was sunny, and when I emerged from Retiro station, I heard thunder. I began running anyway. Then it started to pour.
There were a few other runners around, but most of the people running were just trying to get out of the rain (one particularly upbeat Spaniard started cheering me on I think, yelling, "¡Venga! ¡Venga! ¡Venga!" as he ran past me). Let me tell you, that park is every bit as huge as I had hoped it wouldn't be. I tried to break up the monotony of jogging with softball agilities, but that just earned me weird looks from the locals.
The sun came out as I was scaling the montaña artificial, which was pretty much the end of my workout. I went back down into Retiro station to catch the train back.
Being the modest young lady that I am, I was a little bit concerned that I might not smell so fresh after my run, and I positioned myself away from everyone else waiting on the platform. But then I remembered that this was the Metro. There was absolutely no way that I could be the worst-smelling thing on the Metro. And I was right. Here in Spain, people either wear deodorant or they wear anti-perspirant. Nobody wears both. There's no Secret Clinical Protection or anything like that (so it's a good thing I brought a brand-new stick). The teenage boys standing next to me were smelling particularly ripe.
And that brings me to another point: the mullet is experiencing a resurgence here. I don't know if I've mentioned that or not already. These boys had the tops of their hair gelled up, and then they had curls happening in the back. Sometimes you see a mullet with dreads in the back. It's a horrible mess.
I also happened to take a gander at the reflection of my own face in the window across from me, and can I please tell you that I literally look like a ghost next to these people? The Spanish are Mediterraneans, and some of them have South American or Middle Eastern heritage, and they are all tan. Even in a vague reflection you can clearly see the difference.
Oh! I also saw a robbery nearly take place. As a bunch of people got on the train, one guy 'accidentally' dropped his keys, and he was crouched down at the feet of this guy, who turned out to be a British tourist, which the key-dropper no doubt already knew. He was shaking this guy's pants and everything, pretending to search desperately for these keys, but the British guy was having none of it. He'd noticed that the key-dropper's friend was standing right behind him, ready to pick his pocket as soon as he was distracted. Instead, the British guy told him to stop, and the other two men jumped back off the train before the doors had even closed, at the same stop, which pretty much confirmed that they were up to no good.
Anyway, I made it back all right. It's still raining, and I like that.
Class resumes tomorrow- too bad. I like doing nothing.
Oh yes, my address. If you want to send me a note or anything, IES recommends sending it to their center rather than to my apartment. So send it to:
ME (use my full first and last name, please)
c/o IES Madrid
Colegio Mayor Universitario San Agustín
Avenida de Séneca, 7
Ciudad Universitaria
28040 Madrid
Spain
It will take about a week for anything to get to me. Don't send anything important or valuable, because I'm worried it will get lost/stolen. Thanks!
No comments:
Post a Comment