Las Aventuras de Chulo y Jefe
I looked at a map of the U.S.A. the other day and for the first time it seemed vaguely foreign. Like the geographic borders, the names of states, had an unfamiliarity that was unusal to me, faintly akin to waking up in mid-afternoon and being spatially and temporally disoriented.
Maybe it´s because I´ve been looking at too damn many maps of Europe lately, trying to plan spring break, or La Semana Santa as it´s called here. (It coincides with Easter). I finally settled on Rome for a few days and then Paris for some more, and - praise be to Russell - I get to stay at his place in the whatever number Arrondissement or whatever the hell it is which is supposed to be a nice place. In Rome I want to rent a Vespa for an hour, drive it clumsily, and not die. In Paris I want to find a guide who can give us a private (illegal) tour of the medieval catacombs under the city. (Read about it somewhere at www.infiltration.com.) Among other things of course.
I tossed around the idea of taking a 48-hour bus ride to Romania for only 100 euros which is cheap considering the distance. I am spending too much money on this break. I need a damn job.
And once I realized that a bus and ferry to Morocco - as in, like, Africa - is only about 100 euros also (like, $130) I decided I definitely want to go there. The country is ridiculously cheap, well just ridiculous in general, and Morocco is the kind of place that provides adventure and exoticism which is what world travel should be about. Also, cheap carpets. And damn if I see a snake charmer I´m giving it my money.
So peanut butter and jelly is, to Spaniards, an exotic ethnic food. They don´t eat it here. My roommate Evan and I bought some (6 freakin dollars for a small jar) and the kids, for the first time in their lives tried it. It´s called Crema de Cacahuete or something like that here, btw. Mmmmmmm......You can´t get any blander, more mainstream, and more universal than PB&J but in Spain it´s a novelty.
I don´t know how the car bombing was received in the US but the strangest part of the whole affair here was the apparent indifference of everyone to it. I didn´t even hear about it until I read the news like 4 hours after it happened, and that was after spending several hours at Universidad Autonoma de Madrid and on the Metro. There was no mass panic, so police lockdown, no shared apocalyptic feelings of doom. ETA (the group responsible) has, I was told, been bombing Madrid on and off for 30 or 40 years and I guess after a few dozen it´s not shocking anymore. Even when it happens in your own city. Is that resilience or cold indifference?
Maybe it´s because I´ve been looking at too damn many maps of Europe lately, trying to plan spring break, or La Semana Santa as it´s called here. (It coincides with Easter). I finally settled on Rome for a few days and then Paris for some more, and - praise be to Russell - I get to stay at his place in the whatever number Arrondissement or whatever the hell it is which is supposed to be a nice place. In Rome I want to rent a Vespa for an hour, drive it clumsily, and not die. In Paris I want to find a guide who can give us a private (illegal) tour of the medieval catacombs under the city. (Read about it somewhere at www.infiltration.com.) Among other things of course.
I tossed around the idea of taking a 48-hour bus ride to Romania for only 100 euros which is cheap considering the distance. I am spending too much money on this break. I need a damn job.
And once I realized that a bus and ferry to Morocco - as in, like, Africa - is only about 100 euros also (like, $130) I decided I definitely want to go there. The country is ridiculously cheap, well just ridiculous in general, and Morocco is the kind of place that provides adventure and exoticism which is what world travel should be about. Also, cheap carpets. And damn if I see a snake charmer I´m giving it my money.
So peanut butter and jelly is, to Spaniards, an exotic ethnic food. They don´t eat it here. My roommate Evan and I bought some (6 freakin dollars for a small jar) and the kids, for the first time in their lives tried it. It´s called Crema de Cacahuete or something like that here, btw. Mmmmmmm......You can´t get any blander, more mainstream, and more universal than PB&J but in Spain it´s a novelty.
I don´t know how the car bombing was received in the US but the strangest part of the whole affair here was the apparent indifference of everyone to it. I didn´t even hear about it until I read the news like 4 hours after it happened, and that was after spending several hours at Universidad Autonoma de Madrid and on the Metro. There was no mass panic, so police lockdown, no shared apocalyptic feelings of doom. ETA (the group responsible) has, I was told, been bombing Madrid on and off for 30 or 40 years and I guess after a few dozen it´s not shocking anymore. Even when it happens in your own city. Is that resilience or cold indifference?
posted by DF at 5:49 PM
1 Comments:
Morocco is crazy. But to call it exotic, David, I thought that you would have outgrown orientalism once you got to college and began your real education. Anyhow, keep your money somewhere safe in the market places or you will get robbed, you hawega (means foreinger in Arabic).
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