Why immigration is a putada...

Upon re-entering Spain a few days ago, I was worried that there would be a problem with immigration. Since I had left suddenly on the 8th of December, and I had an appointment to receive my NIE (residency card) on the 19th (which I had to skip), I thought they wouldn't let me back in with a visa that had expired on December 1st. So I made all kinds of preparations, I brought a copy of the letter from the Comunidad de Madrid, explaining why I was in Madrid and how long my program was, etc. I had worked out the explanation in Spanish in my head so it would come out in a coherent way (authorities make me nervous, even if I have nothing to hide). I arrive at customs and present my passport. The official looks at my passport, stamps it, and says "Welcome to Madrid". What?!? That's it? I went to all that trouble and they don't even ask me a single question, they just look at my U.S. passport and assume I would never be there illegally. 

The next day I am sitting with Mariana and her family, and she says to me, "remember I told you that my friend from Caracas was going to come and stay with us?" I respond yes, and she launches into a story about how her friend got to the Madrid airport, Venezuelan passport in hand, and they wouldn't let her into the country. They took her into a room and she had to stay there, sitting in a chair for over 12 hours explaining what she was doing in Spain. They wouldn't let her call Mariana, and they ended up sending her back to Caracas, because even though she had a hotel reservation in Madrid, she hadn't paid for it. All because of her South American passport...

Que putada tía, que putada.

de vuelta por Madriz

3 week hiatus is over and I am back in Madrid. First weekend of December I was in a swimsuit in Las Palmas on the island of Gran Canaria. One week later I was shoveling snow in Seattle in below-freezing temperature. Now I am in Madrid sharing my apartment with my roommate's entire Venezuelan family whose Caribbean/Equator blood can't take the cold here so our apartment is an oven. I am back in shorts and a tank top.

Although my trip was sudden and under some sad circumstances, it was still really nice to spend time with my family. Lots of crying, lots of laughter, lots of Asian food, lots of games, and lots of snow. That is how I will remember Christmas of 2008.

I do a lot of complaining about Madrid (especially the rude people I encounter) but I remembered today why I love this city. Yesterday I walked roughly 6 miles, wandering from my house, through the park, and over to the center of the city to check out some stores (everything is "de rebajas" or on clearance). No matter what time of the day or night, there is always something going on in this city. Since I make hardly any money, this helps me out a bit, since all I have to do to amuse myself is walk around for a bit and I will happen upon something. A free opera in open-air Plaza Mayor, a Mexican mariachi band in Sol, people running around in masks (don't really know why), a protest march through Calle Alcalá, and there are always free museums to see on the weekend or the drum circles in Parque Retiro. This city is full of life. 

And it doesn't take a car or good weather or a lot of money to be able to get around and see it. 

Within the last month I have seen three separate times different women holding their young daughters in their arms over the sidewalk so said daughter can pee on the street without wetting herself. 

After 2 solid months of arguing with Ono, our internet/phone provider, we finally have Wifi. Ono is the worst company I have ever dealt with, and I don't really understand how they can still be in business with such horrible customer service. Two separate times I waited 3 hours for them to bring us a Wifi router, and they never showed up. When we called them to find out why, they said the order was messed up, or the order wasn't right. After Mariana called them and yelled at them for a straight 15 minutes, they finally got it together to send us a router and give us a few months of internet free due to the inconvenience.

Happy New Year's Eve to everyone, I will be eating a traditional Venezuelan/Colombian dinner with Mariana's family (plus her brother's Colombian girlfriend) and then probably going to Sol to welcome the New Year by eating 12 grapes (to signify each month of the year). Mariana's mom ran down this morning to buy grapes so the stores didn't run out. 

I had a good discussion with Mariana's dad about politics. He hates Chávez and thinks he is crazy and told us a few Chávez jokes. We all stayed up talking until about 1 am and then I finally woke up the next morning around 11:30 am to find that no one was awake yet. I was surprised that I woke up before the parents...that usually doesn't happen at home. 

Qué descanses en paz, mi querida nana, siempre recordaré tu sonrisa, tu ánimo, siempre estarás conmigo, querida bendita nana. Besos, te quiero.

Feliz Día de Acción de Gracias

(At right: yes, I am brining the turkey in a garbage bag)

This weekend I pulled off the nearly-impossible. 

I made Thanksgiving dinner,

in Madrid,

for 17 people. 

By myself.

I have a newfound respect for my mom and aunts who pull this off every year. I picked up the pre-ordered 10 lb. turkey on Friday afternoon at 4 with my friend Rocío and she helped me do some grocery shopping until 8pm. I then cooked from 8pm until 2am. Woke up at 9am and started cooking until people got there at 3pm. 

The menu:

Turkey

Stuffing

Mashed Potatoes

Gravy

Salad (with apples, gorgonzola and walnuts)

Apple Pie

Cider (spiked with rum) and cinnamon

The turkey came out really well because I brined it the night before in salt/sugar water with onions and parsley. Then instead of putting stuffing in it, I put a few carrots, celery stalks and parsley sprigs and put the turkey breast-down. I read on someone's blog that this makes the turkey more moist because all the juices run down into that part of the turkey. It was such an ordeal trying to make all of this because our oven is TINY and we have only ONE burner that works. Halfway through the roasting process, Jeffrey and Javi helped me transfer the turkey from a tray to a big pan that they bought at the Chinos (shops run mainly by Chinese people, thus the stores are called "Chinos") and they almost dropped the turkey on the floor. That was a bit hectic.

It all came together though, and fortunately everyone was happy and we had enough food. We were a mix of people from the States, Australia, Perú, Venezuela, Poland and Spain. It was cool to have everyone together saying what they were thankful for. I explained the happy story of the first Thanksgiving (before they massacred the Native Americans) and all was well...until a heated discussion about immigration ensued, pitting the Spaniards in the room versus the Venezuelans. I normally would jump in, but when everyone is spitting out their opinion at rapid speeds I can't get a word in. 

P.D. Back in Seattle when we had a dinner party most of our guy friends would help clean up the kitchen voluntarily. After Thanksgiving dinner everyone who helped out in the kitchen afterward was female. I made a comment to my roommate's friend Melisa about it and she said "I think this problem is universal."