MrMadrid's blog

First off, I would like to thank Professor Hutkins and all my classmates for this very unique opportunity that allowed me to think of my time in Spain a bit differently every week and to also learn about different NYU sites around the globe. I have travelled a lot in my life and lived in many different countries; Mark Twain once said, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” I have never been able to prove him wrong, and nor will I ever try to. Travelling allows me to see how different and similar people are around the world. Going to different countries allows me to try new foods, listen to new music, learn new theories and overall experience a different lifestyle. Though I haven’t had any major epiphanies I am sure that I have learned and changed more than I realize. I am grateful for the opportunity to have lived in a city as culturaly diverse and fun as Madrid for over 4 months. 

One way that I have noticed an instant change in me, is being able to watch a bullfighting game. Bullfighting was something new for me, the first time I saw the bull died, I felt disgusted with this aspect of the Spanish culture. Yet after forcing myself to watch a couple more bulls fight with the matadors, I realize why the 4 year old boy who sat next to me wasn’t scared by the bull’s blood but rather cheered for the matador and once the bull died, cheered to the bull for giving a good fight. It is something I can’t write but understand. They don’t see the Bull dying but rather see how the Matador moves and dances with the Bull. For example to some, American football might look stupidly violent, yet because I use to play, I understand how wide-receivers and quarterbacks work which makes me appreciate watching the NFL.Though I may not agree with bullfighting, after going to a game and observing how involved the Spanish were in the match, I realize why Bull fighting is as big as it is here.

It seems to be an ongoing theme here that people, including myself, wish we could have done more. Gone to more places, seen more things and immersed ourselves in the culture more. People could always have done more, but if I look at what I accomplish I feel pretty satisfied. When I first came here I knew about 10 words of Spanish, now have a basic conversation in Spanish. I got to make a whole bunch of new friends that opens up a whole new network of people back in New York and now when I meet a cute girl in New York from Madrid, I have things to talk to her about because I too can now say I lived in Madrid. The one thing I want my readers to get out of this post is to concentrate on the things you have done and not worry about the things you didn't do. Your sites will most likely be around for a long time and you could always go back to finish off the things you weren't able to do.


Muchos Gracias,
Sus Amigo,

Mr. Madrid


PS: I realize that I have not put a picture of myself up yet, if you were trying to put a face on Mr.Madrid, I am the one holding the football.  

For all those students that might be moving to Spain I have a few suggestions before coming here, one of my suggestions sticks out more than the others. Understand what “Como esta?” means; know how to say “El bano de donde eres?” (Where is the bathroom?) I knew about 10 words including tacos and tequila and before coming, I wish I made the effort to learn at least 30 or 40 words before coming. If you are just staying Spain for a week with your parents, obviously you could get away with not knowing any words, yet if you plan on studying here for a semester, learning 30-40 words before arriving helps you get somewhat immersed into Spain the second you land.

I also recommend that if you plan on going out; take a nap before doing so. People plan on staying out to at least 6:00am most the time just so they can take the 1 euro subway ride back instead of an expensive taxi. While out, I would watch how people dance, they dance a little differently here. Guys tend to sway their hips more and “grinding” isn’t as common as it is in the United States. The greasy food that people eat right before heading back home from a long night out can sometimes be Pizza but it is mostly churros here. I recommend Churros with hot melted chocolate, I know that sounds overly sweat but the Churros here aren’t as sweat as they are in the United States making the additional chocolate the perfect combination.

During the day, you need to get used to the idea that shops and businesses have a long lunch break, typically from 2:30-4:00. Also a lot of the things that are open every day in New York are closed on Sunday. That is the Spanish way, yet don’t say the ‘Spanish way’ in Barcelona because up in Barcelona it’s the ‘Catalan way’, same in the Basque country, it is the ‘Basque way’ not ‘Spanish way.’

  Lastly the Spanish people are more touchy-feely than the this-is-my-personal-space New Yorker. I made the mistake of giving a girl a handshake instead of two kisses on the cheek even though it was the first time I had seen her in my life. Though, I think exaggerated, the Spanish male stereotype of cat-calling and aggressive attitude towards pursuing woman does exist. Not to the point where any girl should worry about it, but girls should be aware this is their culture and its acceptable in their culture to be up front. Yet, at the end of the day, they are not overly different from Americans, they still have a western mindset. My last advice is to be confident and go out and meet Spaniards, I find them to be very welcoming for the most part and they love to meet and party with new people especially people they can practice their English.

I have had a great time in Madrid and probably have learned more than I realize. Yet the greatest epiphany I have had here, unfortunately wasn’t the best experience. It was during the first weekend, a bunch of NYU students and I went out in Madrid. For many students, it was there first time to go out to a bar and later on a club and drink legally. I had a bad stomach bug that day and decided to go out but only drink water that night, meaning this story is 100 percent accurate.

We went to an area called tribunal which has a bunch of bars, at one point in the night I was walking with three NYU girls who were slightly inebriated from one bar to another. They were talking very loud in English caught the attention of a group of young Spanish men. The group of around 4 or 5 men came up to me and one guy said, “Te Gusta?” (You Like) I didn’t fully understand and instead of ignoring the group of guys I decided to ask in English what he had said. While I was asking, I noticed a Foot coming close to my head, one of his friends had tried to kick my head. I ducked under his kick and quickly realized that I was in trouble. Luckily there was a bunch of people on the street and I somehow got to distance myself from the group. That group of guys seemed like they went out looking for a fight. In Madrid you need to dress decent to go into a bar, these guys were all wearing track suits.

At that point I realized I wasn’t in Kansas anymore,(Oz reference in case you couldn’t tell) My dad who has been traveling his whole life told me the most dangerous time to be in a new city is within the first 48 hours because that’s when you look like a tourist the most. Though the first 48 hours might be the most dangerous time, it doesn’t mean that you’re automatically safe after the first 48 hours. It was an unlucky confrontation; Yet I also realize that my friends and I probably were asking for trouble when we were talking English loudly in the middle of Madrid. I should have told those girls to speak English in a lower volume because that clearly puts us out there as non-locals.

I have mentioned the name Juan in my previous post; he is a friend of my Spanish roommate Ana who I meet when she took me out one time to meet a few of her Spanish friends. I was a beginner at Spanish so when Juan used English to ask me if I follow the NBA, I knew I would be able to talk to someone that night. We ended up talking about a lot of things that night and decided to exchange numbers so we could play basketball one day.


A few weeks later, Juan and I got in contact and he invited me to play basketball with some of his college friends. His friends were very amicable and I had a great time playing basketball with them. Even though his friends didn’t speak English, I could use my beginners Spanish to talk with them about Basketball because they knew a lot of basketball terms in English by listening to the NBA games on TV. It’s also not as much of a struggle to talk in a language your learning when you are talking about a subject that interests you a lot. Juan and I were always on the same team and we communicated during the game. After the game he drove me to a local and very cheap tapas bar to have some tapas. He is studying English and my concentration in Gallatin has to do with international relations meaning we both gain something out of our conversations. He loves to practice his English; I love to hear about Spain and Europe.


I think I speak for both of us when I say that I didn’t know we would have as much in common as we do considering we are from opposite sides of the world. Whether its music, politics or almost anything we both acknowledge that we surprise each other. Whenever I go out with Ana, I make sure Juan comes because I know that if I get stuck in a situation where no one speaks English and I am not having a good Spanish speaking day, I can talk with Juan. Juan is probably my only Spanish friend here. I can talk to Juan and be totally comfortable about not offending his culture or his opinions because we really good friends now. He is the guy I call if I have a question about Spain and I don’t feel like asking my senora or Ana with my beginners Spanish.      

My Genius loci only cost a few euros and can be found at almost every supermarket. For the rest of my life, whenever I have a Pims chocolate I am pretty sure I will think of Madrid. The first time I had Pims was in Madrid but this is not the reason this delicious snack is my Genius loci, it’s because of the story of how I found out about Pims chocolate.
 
I always loved going to grocery stores whenever I was in a different country.  Walking through aisles and seeing different faces on cereal boxes and different cartons of milk intrigues me, I almost get a sense of being a local. I always make an effort to buy drinks and snacks that I have never seen before. One night Ana, my Spanish roommate, invited me out to meet some of her Spanish friends, wanting to immerse myself in Spain I decided to join. All her friends were very nice but I got along with one guy named Juan a bit more because Juan liked basketball and that gave us an instant topic to talk about. One thing led to another and we started talking about food and our favorite snacks. Oreos, Doritos, and Fanta were some of the names mentioned. Juan then said Pims, this was something I had never heard of, he was shocked that they didn’t have Pims in the States. My natural curiosity to try different snacks from different countries led us to take a walkl to the nearest market in search of buying a carton of Pims. Yet it was dark and most of the supermarkets were closed. Juan and I walked for about 20 minutes before finding an open store. On the way I asked him all the things I wanted to know about Spain and the Spaniards. What they think Of the United States, Obama, the EU, football vs basketball and even what they think of Justin Beiber. I learned a lot about Spanish culture and society during that walk.

Every once in a while Juan and I meet to play basketball or have a fun night out in Madrid, we always jokingly bring up the idea of going to a supermarket to buy Pims. I’m not the cookie monster but every once in a while I need to buy a snack. I introduced my friends from NYU to Pims and they are more addicted to it than I am. I am sure when we discuss memories back on the NYC campus; we will talk about how good Pims were.  If you ever see Pims I highly recommend the orange tasting flavor. 

Though I have been to a good amount of interesting Spanish restaurants, there is always one place I go to on the weekend if I had too good of a time the night before. Sometimes the legal drinking age of 18 can be your worst enemy; but there is always this one place that I go to the next day. I get a big meal that fills me up, it is not a tapas bar or a café that has sandwiches, I go to TGI Fridays. Don’t judge me! I realize that the reason I am in Spain is to immerse myself with the Spanish culture and going to Fridays doesn’t do that. Yet every once in a while, I need to take a break from practicing my ‘improving but still poor’ Spanish. Sometimes the idea of little dishes of different tapas or a small portion of gazpacho with bread on the side doesn’t appeal to me. Occasionally I need a good old-fashioned burger with fries on the side, and TGI Fridays is where I get it.

I rarely been go to Fridays back in the United States, I actually don’t know the last time I went. Yet I have been 5 or 6 times here already. It is a few blocks away from my house and I always go with my roommate and sometimes friends that live around my place. I like to go in and talk with the waiters who are usually dressed as a famous Hollywood character. Whether the waiter is dressed as the main character from clockwork Orange or Spiderman, I ask for a menu in English and order my food in English.

It is nice to have some ‘American’ food every once in a while, it keeps me from being homesick while in Spain. For that half hour in which I am eating a cheeseburger, talking to my friends and looking around the restaurant seeing different Hollywood posters I reminisce about some of the good times. I hope this essay doesn’t make me seem that I am not having a great time in Spain, I love Madrid and am having a great time grasping every bit of Spanish culture possibly. It is just nice to go to a place that reminds one of home every once in a while. I feel like most students here have their thing or place that brings them back home for however long, whether its Starbucks or Facebook.  Fridays is what does it for me, Hmm this journal entry is starting to make me hungry.

Though I am not the biggest art fan in the world, last year I had one of Salvador Dali’s paintings as my desktop background. When I found out that some of his paintings were in Reina Sofia Museum in Madrid I was excited to see his work in front of my eyes. As I predicted, I was utterly impressed with his works, even the ones that I was not familiar with. I ‘googled’ some of his paintings before I left for Madrid, but to see the actual paintings in real life, which is bigger than my laptop screen, gave me a higher appreciation for Dali. His colors are extremely  vivid and his imagination is very extensive, more than half of his paintings astonish merely because of the broad creativity

His works has a lot of passion; I love how he touches on different aspects of life. Whether he is painting to enlighten us about sexual desires or political messages, he always has an important idea behind his paintings. Though some people might feel that his sexual interpretations are a bit too perverted, I find it intriguing, especially after being told a few stories about Dali’s personal life. My professor told me one story that blew my mind. Dali did not get along with his father, yet when Dali started to get Spain’s attention through his art, his father wanted some money from him. His father claimed that he had helped him develop in some shape or form into the very man he is now. Dali then threw some of his sperm onto his father’s face saying something along the lines of, “this is what you gave me, so I am giving it back to you. NOW LEAVE ME ALONE.” I have also heard other stories of Dali asking other men to sleep with his wife while he observes. I am not denying that Dali might have been a bit of an odd ball, but through his art we can see some of his personal struggles in life.

My favorite painting of Dali is the political art masterpiece named The Enigma of Hitler. It is dark and captivating at the same time. In the painting a small picture of Hitler is in a big bowl with a few other beans. I did not think much of it until I found out the Spanish word for beans “judias” also means Jews. I see myself going back there at least one more time before I leave.

MacCannell’s thesis has some very valid points he addresses. One thing that I can easily relate to my own experiences in Spain is that travel and tourism is, for the most part, “staged authenticity.” Going to different cities around Spain I realize that every historical sightseeing place, has restaurants right next to it that serve the regions “authentic dishes.” Growing up in China I realized first hand that the real Chinese food served to foreigners that cost around fifthteen dollars, and the real Chinese food that cost around two dollars for local Chinese, had different styles of authenticity. The fifthteen dollar meal has Chinese dishes but the environment of those touristic authentic restaurants always have a historical setting. Dragon paintings on the wall, golden and red table cloths, it doesn’t have the real nitty-gritty authentic feel to it that local Chinese restaurants have.


Knowing this, whenever I travel around Spain or Europe, I try my best to not eat close to a tourist attraction. I try my best to find a local restaurant that can give me the real feel to that city. It is interesting to take a step back and realize how many things are for tourism. I remember the first couple weeks in Madrid, people where telling me to go to certain restaurants in certain areas. After being in Madrid for over two months now, I realize how big of a difference touristic stuff can be when comparing it to what locals do. As MacCannel writes, “The term ‘tourist’ is increasingly used as a derisive label for someone who seems content with his obviously inauthentic experiences.” (MacCannell Page 5.) Whenever I go to a place I try and stay there longer than a few days, because I know if I only stay in a place for a few days, I will be able to see all the touristic destinations which I could talk about at the dinner table back home. Yet being in the city for a few days only allows me to understand the touristic aspect of that city, and does not allow me to indulge myself in the local authentic culture.


          The honeymoon period for me in Spain has long passed, which in a way I am happy about. Now I see Madrid in a similar way the locals see it. Whenever I walk by a tourist destination and see someone looking up and down the street with their camera in their hand ready to take a picture any second, I realize the misunderstanding of Madrid they will have once they leave.  

In the book The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway the main Character Brett goes to Pamplona. While in Pamplona, he enjoys the atmosphere of fiestas and drinking. He drinks during the day and during the night; this part of the story reminded me of Madrid. It is very common to see people drinking in the morning or in the midday. My anthropology professor told me that drinking during the day is part of the culture and people don’t think anything of it. He also told me Spain has more bars than any other European country. Bars are open until the early morning, and from what I have noticed, the local neighborhood bars are open for breakfast and lunch.

I feel like bars in the States have this connotation of a place to go and get drunk. In Spain, bars are a place to socialize. People are nicer and more willing to meet strangers in Madrid. It’s very common for me to end up meeting some new people around my age by the end of the night. It seems that people enjoy the company of others and want to converse. I have been bought drinks and I have bought drinks for others. To enjoy the process of becoming slightly inebriated with others is part of the culture. In New York, I would never buy some stranger that I was talking to at the bar for twenty minutes a drink (Unless it was a cute girl.)

Another theme in the book is machismo, Romero is a young matador who has shows no fear. I thought before coming here that the Spanish men were going to be very manly. I have yet to see the macho presence in Spain. I go to the gym and hardly see men with huge muscles. They go for a slimmer look here. Not saying its better or worse, it is just very different. Spaniards are also very nice and don’t possess the stand offish type personality I was expecting. I have yet to see any fights or confrontation and drivers seem to be generous in terms of letting people move in and out of lanes. Maybe it is Madrid, but I have yet to find the tough group of Spanish guys the Hemingway describes.  

Not much difference between my lifestyle in New York and Madrid during the weekdays. I Get up to go to class, have some lunch, attend another class, come home and hit the gym/do homework. I try to keep a steady routine during the weekday because ultimately the reason why I am in Spain is for school. I dedicate twenty minutes every night to watch Spanish television; my home-stay loves the news so we watch the news together.  I understand very little, but I listen hard and try to pick up words that I learned in class. I also try to understand the flow of the language, how words run off each other and pronunciation of words. The weekend is a completely different story, this is when I soak myself with Spanish culture and lifestyle.  

If New York is the city that doesn’t sleep than Madrid is the city that doesn’t stop partying. I feel that sometimes I have a slight case of have jetlag on Sunday after sometimes going out Thursday (don’t have class on Friday), Friday and Saturday. People can easily stay out until six in the morning so they can take the subway back instead of paying for a cab. Some people stay up past 8, the idea is after having a long fun night, people get some food before they go to sleep. The most common dish to get is churros with liquefied chocolate on the side to dip it in. I highly recommend this dish to anyone who visits Spain.

 In New York if it was getting towards 12ish and I still didn’t have a concrete plan, I would usually give up on the night. While in Spain it could take until one in the morning to decide where to meet people. While out, people have a different vibe, they are very open and touchy. The New York attitude of ‘If I don’t know you, don’t talk to me,’ which I absolutely despise, is thankfully nowhere to be found in Madrid. People obviously don’t talk to weird or sketchy looking individuals on the street, but people do talk to other random people and groups intertwine with each other. A lot of people tend to go outside the club and have a smoke; this is where a big part of socializing is done.

I have talked to numerous of Spaniards and other Europeans visiting Madrid. Yet I need to do a better job of having Spanish friends. I tend to go out with other NYU students who prefer to speak English with each other. Though I talk to Spaniards through the night, we don’t exchange numbers and plan on never seeing them again. I love all my NYU friends but I realize that I need to start making Spanish friends if I want to get fully immersed in the Spanish culture. I can’t blame it on not speaking Spanish because in reality most young Spaniards would love to practice English with an American. Wow! Writing this out is making me realize that I need to start meeting Spanish students, next time I go out I will be scoping for Spaniards.
 

For those of you that don’t know, I am studying in Madrid and I didn’t really speak a word of Spanish before I came to Madrid. I also live in a home-stay and my hostess doesn’t speak a word of English. I found out, very fast, that my hands and facial expressions can go a long way. I have dinner every night with my hostess and we can communicate with the help of hand motions, facial expressions, different random objects around the table and an English-Spanish dictionary.
I really only need to understand a few words in every sentence to get a grasp of what she is trying to say. Obviously and unfortunately I am not able to hold a conversation about politics, history or any other type of academic conversation. Maybe one day I will be able to understand what is on the news here but as of now I am happy if I can get my basic needs understood.  

I am pretty lucky considering that not only is English close to Spanish, but that English is generally the accepted ‘world language.’ Meaning if worst comes to worst I can probably find someone who speaks English. For instance, I was at the gym the other day getting my body in the shape it needs to be in for the coming summer, it was packed and I was using one of the machines and a Spanish woman came up to me saying something along the lines of, “aslsklj faslj sdlk fjsdf.” I didn’t fully understand where she was getting at. Yet I knew there were only a few things that she could have wanted. She could have wanted to use the machine I was using or wanted my number. I decided not to go with the latter; I tried to form a sentence with my terrible Spanish which clearly gave me away as a foreigner because the next thing she said was in English. That is one of the many examples of when I would say something in Spanish and they would reply in English. Even though it is nice to know that a lot of Spaniards speak some Spanish, I know I can’t depend on it. I just try and guess what a word or sentence means and so far I have not had a problem besides the casual confused look my hostess gives me.   

Getting lost is underrated; people tend to think getting lost is a bad thing that happens to you. Obviously there is a sense of vulnerability when one is lost; I don’t recommend getting lost in the middle of the night by yourself in a neighborhood you don’t really know, yet getting lost during the day in your own neighborhood can be a great experience. My mentality is that, as long as I have the address written down or memorized and some money for a short taxi ride just in case, getting lost is not ‘getting lost’ but exploring.   

Luckily I live right next to the Real Madrid Stadium which is a huge landmark and most people know where it is. Meaning whenever I was walking back my goal was to get to the stadium which has its own subway stop. Even on my first day I knew I could never be completely lost because of the stadium having a subway stop. My journey to school is about a ten minute walk, fortunately I have a roommate who speaks Spanish and has class at the same time in the morning.  The first couple of days I made sure I was ready to go when she was, and tagged along with her while trying to memorize my way to school. I looked for things that caught my eye; I have a good sense of direction so it wasn’t hard for me to get to school after a walking it a few times.

Yet one time, just this one time, I ended up getting lost on my way to school. I am one of the few students who came to Madrid without taking a semester of Spanish in my life. So communication is a problem for me, I kept the address of the school in my wallet for times of getting terribly lost. I went into McDonalds and asked random strangers on the street where my school was. I wasn’t able to understand their directions by listening to them talk but rather by watching their hand motions. I would shake my head and give eye contact as if I spoke fluently yet in reality it was the hand motions that I was paying attention to. I would just try and walk in the general right direction and ask other people the direction after walking for a bit.  I ended up making it to my school with very few cuts or bruises.
 

I agree with Des Esseinte’s idea about a country not meeting the expectations of a picture on a postcard. Especially now, when tourism plays a decently sized role in some countries economy, media makes certain places seem heavenly when in reality very few places are ‘Picture Perfect.’ Yet I would argue that countries tend to offer something more than what is shown on a postcard. As the author describes when he arrives in this poorly taken care restaurant in the beginning of the second chapter, he writes that it has a certain appeal to him and that the restaurant moved him in a ‘unexpectedly poetic traveling place’ way. It is these type of nitty-gritty places and situations in which one truly immerses themselves with another culture. People tend to gain invaluable knowledge from discussions with local people and the nitty-gritty setting is the perfect place to hold these type of conversations. Growing up, and even now, I tend to ask myself what I would be like if I grew up in a different situation. Putting yourself in those different situations is the best way for me to find out. This is why I love travelling to different places.

If I grew up in a different political or financially situated country I know I would think differently about the world and about life. Being able to talk to local people whose shoes I am not in, gives me time to form a vague picture of why people from different cultures act a certain way. Something I have started to notice in Spain is how Spaniards perceive Americans and why they perceive us that way. Only being here for three weeks I don’t think I can come to a strong enough theory behind it. Yet it seems that because of Franco’s dictatorship which lasted for forty years and ended in 1975, people tend to be more open in all ways. From what I find they are not as sexually repressed as I see a ton of public display of affection(PDA) everywhere ranging from clubs to parks even in the subway right next to me. I am assuming this has to do with the fact that they were repressed for so long, now that they have the freedom, they use it in every way they can. Spanish people tend to be very touchy because of the constant PDA touching ones arm or kissing someone goodbye on the cheek is only thought of being friendly. Obviously, I am sure there are other factors to why Spanish people kiss each other goodbye, but Franco might be one.   

Hola Gallantinos! My name is Kyle and I am studying in Madrid this semester. Traveling has been a huge part of my life and I’m very excited to get to know a new culture. As of now, my concentration is International Relations and Communications. I was born and raised in San Francisco until the age of 12, which is when my dad’s work decided to relocate us to Shanghai, China. I was in Shanghai until my first class in NYU. While in Shanghai, I went to both local and international schools. I speak fluent Chinese so when I tell my parents friends that I am going to Madrid to learn Spanish they ask, “Why? Stick with your Chinese.” I then explain that not only is Chinese, English and Spanish a triple threat for job opportunities but  when I was in Shanghai I found myself hanging out with many Europeans and Latin Americans. Sometimes my Latin American friends would speak Spanish amongst each other and I felt left out. My other European friends could understand a bit of Spanish, meaning I was the only one who couldn’t participate in certain conversations. So here I am, never taken a semester of Spanish in my life and I am going to be living in Madrid for the next four months. My dad, who lived in China for six years without speaking Chinese, proved that if you throw a dog in the water, it will learn how to swim.


Not going to lie, the complications of the language barrier hit me a few days before I left for Madrid. I called my Senora(home-stay mom) to clarify that the address I had received was correct, still don’t know what she said on the phone that day. She doesn’t speak a word of English, and just like that, I wasn’t overly excited to catch my flight. I have been here for over two weeks and I’m still alive, it is amazing how much we can say with our hands and facial expressions.  I haven’t started to miss home and I don’t think I will, I am distracted by the rich culture, great food and insane nightlife Madrid offers, it truly is the city that never sleeps. Hopefully I can come out of here speaking a bit of Espanol, make new friends and most importantly be able to have some good memories of my semester in Madrid.