April 7, 2013: a day of ordinary adventures: the post office and the bakery
It's turned cooler here (low 60's) but still brilliantly sunny. Tomorrow the forecast is for rain. I honestly don't know if I've ever been in Madrid when it's rained but my daughter Amy assures me it does. I have an umbrella and only two 1/2 blocks to their place and wifi and my iPad here so what the heck.
PO first! The lady working there really should have been able to understand my well practiced "doce sellos para USA" Is my accent that bad???
Had to first ask a young woman how to get my "number;" she was lovely but while she was trying to show me, this old, really old but fast, woman zipped in and got a number ahead of me.
Yes, I sat there and chuckled when her #250 went up and she did not have all her papers together. The worker (the one who doesn't understand my Spanish) had to give her some forms and send her away ... twice she shooed her away and would not let old lady stand at her desk and fill out the forms.
Then my turn. Smiling and clearly I asked for 12 stamps for the USA. Complete confusion on her part. I mean what's the problem, senora?? Fortunately for me, there was a really nice man at the next counter who understood me perfectly. The PO worker seemed confused that I wanted stamps to the USA!!! Am I really the first? Obviously I am not in tourist territory here! She groaned, got up, and went in search of her stamps to weird foreign places book, found it, explained to me twice that I would have to use 2 of the stamps on my mail; I got it, I smiled, I nodded.
She gave me two (for one letter) and asked for money. VERY clearly I said " Mas, en toto doce" and smiled. She seemed confused again and re-explained that i had to use TWO per piece of mail.
Grrrrr. I got that. I repeated "mas" -- thank heavens for my friend at the next counter who was chuckling now. Whew! I finally got my stamps, gave her the money, God knows how much I paid, and walked out the door with my new friend who wished me a good day.
And I am always tickled by the people who speak extensive and fast Spanish to me when clearly I don't understand a word they say. Hahahaha!
Whew! The bakery was easier: I just needed bread but looking around saw that I'd have to settle for a baguette. I think I asked for it sliced but I think she asked if I wanted it regular or rustica. Knowing I'm in a foreign land (what the heck was I thinking to want it sliced) I opted for rustica. That was easy enough and I went home to make my jamon y queso and Pringles + tinto de verano supper.
Yes, if we want to spend time in a foreign country, we really should learn the language. I promise I'm trying! My high school Latin from 50+ years ago just doesn't help that much.
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Family time in Madrid
Friday, April 3, 2015.
It's really not only the young people who get to travel; however, for those of us adding grey hairs, travel is a bit different.
I thought it would be good to share adventures and here is the first entry from my April spent in Madrid, Spain where my daughter Amy and her family live. These travels are not with the young and the hip; they are with me, recently turned 69, trying to live a full life, speaking little except English.
I am enjoying waking to the city sounds: people talking, kids yelling, cars zooming down on Calle Principe de Vergara, and a jack hammer at work near by. I am much more of a suburban girl, but this is really nice for a while. I am trying to learn actual street names this trip instead of my usual navigate by landmarks method. I have decided that a possibly interesting guide book to Madrid would be to choose some streets and then detail stories about the people for which they are named as well as what's to be found on that street. Nacho, my son in law, tells me that most of the streets in this neighborhood are named after either painters or civil war generals. However, once again my lack of Spanish hampers me because all the info and the very best stories are written in it. I think I’ll get my granddaughter Sofi, aged 3 1/2 and already bi-lingual, to be my co-author.
I was reminded Sunday of how much I love this culture of taking it easy and visiting, eating and drinking at leisure. We went to the neighborhood Melanie and Peri (Nacho's cousins) live in and it's quite obvious the economic differences from here to there: from clothing and carriage to varied skin colors and attitudes. I do know that the cousins have had trouble with break-ins and street kids over the last few years as the local population has changed and, so I'm told, more migrant families have moved in. They would like to move to a different neighborhood but property values are too low for them to sell now (as has happened all over the world) so they live in a two bedroom/one bathroom apartment (but with a huge outside terrace) and their two children.
That said, the area was lovely and vibrant and active. We went to a plaza that you walk down a wide alley to enter so no cars, except for a drive thru by the policia twice, and a restaurant / bar with lots of outside tables and chairs and a good sized playground in one quadrant of the plaza. Melanie commented that the "floor" of the playground had been a dirty sand mix for the longest time and various groups had requested improvements; this is a local election year and just a few months ago, the ground was covered with the cushy playground flooring so common in the states. Politics are pretty much the same everywhere. Stinky! On the not -busy side of the square, a happy futball game was in progress with a varying mixture of participants running in and out from pretty young to probably middle school kids. Lots of shouts and laughter.
The owner of the restaurant/bar is the big guy you see in the photo with me and the kids. He has the perfect personality to be a bar proprietor: jovial, a bit loud, visiting with his customers. Earlier he had delivered some chicken to our table and told me it was excellente; it was! When he returned a bit later and asked, I said bueno; he said something like "just bueno?" (I'm guessing) and I told him muy bueno. He kissed my hand. So much danged fun!!
As we were sitting there, I looked around at the buildings surrounding the plaza and thought about the neighborhood; these are not the grand facades we see in this neighborhood or along Grand Via. I realized that I can write a review for TripAdvisor, for example, but this is not a place where tourists will ever intentionally seek out and only in coming to Madrid so regularly and over a long period of time do I have the leisure to not have anything in particular on a must do list.I have the opportunity to live the culture. For that I am indeed fortunate. My only wish is that Bob, my husband who has Alzheimers Disease and is in a care facility. could be here too; with his Spanish and personality he would be loving bumbling about and actually talking to people. He and the bar proprietor would have been fast friends.
It's really not only the young people who get to travel; however, for those of us adding grey hairs, travel is a bit different.
I thought it would be good to share adventures and here is the first entry from my April spent in Madrid, Spain where my daughter Amy and her family live. These travels are not with the young and the hip; they are with me, recently turned 69, trying to live a full life, speaking little except English.
I am enjoying waking to the city sounds: people talking, kids yelling, cars zooming down on Calle Principe de Vergara, and a jack hammer at work near by. I am much more of a suburban girl, but this is really nice for a while. I am trying to learn actual street names this trip instead of my usual navigate by landmarks method. I have decided that a possibly interesting guide book to Madrid would be to choose some streets and then detail stories about the people for which they are named as well as what's to be found on that street. Nacho, my son in law, tells me that most of the streets in this neighborhood are named after either painters or civil war generals. However, once again my lack of Spanish hampers me because all the info and the very best stories are written in it. I think I’ll get my granddaughter Sofi, aged 3 1/2 and already bi-lingual, to be my co-author.
I was reminded Sunday of how much I love this culture of taking it easy and visiting, eating and drinking at leisure. We went to the neighborhood Melanie and Peri (Nacho's cousins) live in and it's quite obvious the economic differences from here to there: from clothing and carriage to varied skin colors and attitudes. I do know that the cousins have had trouble with break-ins and street kids over the last few years as the local population has changed and, so I'm told, more migrant families have moved in. They would like to move to a different neighborhood but property values are too low for them to sell now (as has happened all over the world) so they live in a two bedroom/one bathroom apartment (but with a huge outside terrace) and their two children.
That said, the area was lovely and vibrant and active. We went to a plaza that you walk down a wide alley to enter so no cars, except for a drive thru by the policia twice, and a restaurant / bar with lots of outside tables and chairs and a good sized playground in one quadrant of the plaza. Melanie commented that the "floor" of the playground had been a dirty sand mix for the longest time and various groups had requested improvements; this is a local election year and just a few months ago, the ground was covered with the cushy playground flooring so common in the states. Politics are pretty much the same everywhere. Stinky! On the not -busy side of the square, a happy futball game was in progress with a varying mixture of participants running in and out from pretty young to probably middle school kids. Lots of shouts and laughter.
The owner of the restaurant/bar is the big guy you see in the photo with me and the kids. He has the perfect personality to be a bar proprietor: jovial, a bit loud, visiting with his customers. Earlier he had delivered some chicken to our table and told me it was excellente; it was! When he returned a bit later and asked, I said bueno; he said something like "just bueno?" (I'm guessing) and I told him muy bueno. He kissed my hand. So much danged fun!!As we were sitting there, I looked around at the buildings surrounding the plaza and thought about the neighborhood; these are not the grand facades we see in this neighborhood or along Grand Via. I realized that I can write a review for TripAdvisor, for example, but this is not a place where tourists will ever intentionally seek out and only in coming to Madrid so regularly and over a long period of time do I have the leisure to not have anything in particular on a must do list.I have the opportunity to live the culture. For that I am indeed fortunate. My only wish is that Bob, my husband who has Alzheimers Disease and is in a care facility. could be here too; with his Spanish and personality he would be loving bumbling about and actually talking to people. He and the bar proprietor would have been fast friends.
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