The General Strike

Some aspects of Spain’s economic woes are obvious. Protest marches seem to occur almost daily. They usually end at city hall, so I see them on my way to language classes.  Empty storefronts, mostly restaurants are evident, and anti-government graffiti is everywhere. In other ways it is fairly subtle. While one occasionally sees beggars, they are far fewer than in Washington DC or San Francisco, which admittedly are much larger cities. But on November 14, there was a general country-wide strike.

The build-up was big, but the actual event seemed low-key. The city was well-postered and many businesses displayed signs announcing the strike. While many small business and restaurants were closed, all of the large chain stores were open. When businesses did open, they often kept some of their shutters down, just in case any violence erupted. I am sure. A lot of workers decided to stay home for the day, but others seem weary of losing yet another day of pay or revenues. Few buses ran and all of the government offices and rec centers were closed for all or part of the day. 

The previous day, Zoe’s teacher announced that she would be there and the kids and their families should make their own decisions. JT’s teacher didn’t say anything to his class. I opted to send the kids to school anyway, as Tom had been gone for nearly 3 weeks and I needed a mental health day. On the day of the strike, school was basically childcare since just a few kids showed up (2 in JT’s class and 7 in Zoe’s).  JT’s teacher and several others were part of the protest so they combined several grades. Instead of instruction, they drew pictures, played games, extended recess and watched movies. From my perspective, it was still better than their being at home, because at least they were interacting with other kids in Spanish and I had the day to relax. At the last minute, Zoe's swim group had practice when the pool opened at 5pm. While she was initially reluctant to go, only 8 (instead of 16) kids attended and the team had access to to 3 lanes (instead of 2), so she was happy.

That evening, we watch the main protest march as a real life civics’ lesson. In Granada, the marches are peaceful. In Madrid they are known for erupting into violence. I picked a strategic spot with an easy exit plan if things went south for any reason. While somber, the march felt somewhat ominous as the sky was overcast and the city police were at the ready, equipped with riot gear. Adding to the tension was the occasional loud firecracker. The marchers were chanting, but the protest seemed to have an air of resignation than anger. I guess there had been pickets the previous night and those had been much more spirited. All of this made Zoe very nervous so we did not stay very long. 

It was certainly different being in a small country where a general strike brings the entire public works system to a grinding halt. At the end, it was real life reminder to the children of the economic struggles of the Spain and how it affects ordinary citizens.

Cordoba

With just a month of our trip remaining, and Tom still traveling, we decide to visit Cordoba for the weekend. Of the 3 cities which most embody the conflict between the Christians and Muslims, Cordova is the least visited. (Seville and Granada are the other 2). Many people tour Cordova as a day trip from either Granada or Seville.  We depart Saturday and arrive in the early afternoon. Since we are only staying one night, I splurge on a posh hotel. The hotel is centrally located in an ancient neighborhood called the Juderia and directly across the street from the most popular site in Cordoba, the Mezquita.

Unfortunately, it’s raining again, so we tour the Mezquita first. It’s the most unusual building I have ever seen. It is a gothic cathedral constructed inside of a massive mosque. During its lifetime it has been consecrated and deconsecrated several times, depending on whether the Muslims or Christians were in power. Not surprisingly, like many important buildings in this part of Spain, the mosque was constructed atop a Roman temple.

The absolute vastness of the mosque makes describing it adequately difficult. The footprint occupies an entire city block, and at its largest over 45,000 people worshipped there. Over 1,000 stone columns connected by graceful double arches support the massive timber roof.  The mood of mosque portion is both tranquil and somber with the interplay of black, grey, pink and blue stones: jasper, onyx, granite and marble. The builders of the mosque saved ornamentation for the most important site, the mihrab, or door facing mecca. This part is richly adorned with copious amounts of gold and semi-precious stones.

The Cathedral was added in the 1200s. In stark contrast to the mosque, the cathedral is built in the gothic style where high, arched ceilings and large windows allow light to flow in. Over 200 columns were removed during this renovation. Ironically, this conversion while jarring probably ensured that the building wasn’t completely destroyed during the Spanish inquisition.

Later that night, after the rain cleared, we wandered across the Roman bridge and through the tiny narrow streets of the Juderia taking pictures. After a delightful Italian dinner, we, of course, indulged in ice cream.  Sunday brought warmth and sunshine. After seeing a couple more sites we opted for the touristy but thoroughly entertaining Spectacle of Horses show. There were 5 parts, each about 10 minutes long which showcased a different discipline of riding. Both the horses and riders were graceful yet powerful.  We loved it.

We were walking in the direction of tapas place written up in Trip Advisor, when we saw a huge number of people enjoying food just outside the Mezquita. In fact they were using the platform as a picnic area. They all seemed to be enjoying plates loaded with tortilla Española and salmorejo (a thick version of gazpacho). As everyone seemed to be speaking Spanish, we adopted the “when in Rome” attitude and sent Zoe into the fray to procure our food. After numerous people skipped her, she asserted herself and came away with 2 tortilla Española and 2 salmorejos. Was it worth it? Well, I will only say that we are forever ruined for tortilla Española. That will be the yardstick by which all future tortillas will be measured. For a dish made with only potatoes, eggs and olive oil, it was unbelievable rich and delicious. It was the perfect ending to a lovely day and we headed back to Granada shortly thereafter.

Madrid –2nd time around

The kids had a long weekend the first of November. Despite rules separating church from state, November 1^st, is all Souls day and a holiday. Since it fell on a Thursday, the state and local offices enjoy a floating holiday and viola; we had a 4-day weekend. We decided to return to Madrid since, without Tom, 4 days with everything closed could feel like an eternity. I picked the children up early from school and we caught the luxury Supra coach to Madrid. Supra tickets are double the normal price and while JT qualified for a discount, Zoe was full fare. In addition to movies, they serve snacks, bon-bons, and beverages including wine and a separate coffee service. It reminded me of the time Tom and I took the Chunnel 1^st class from London to Paris. The woman providing the service was especially nice to the children, encouraging them to take more candy. The bus even offered WIFI, although service was a bit spotty.

This time around, we opted for a hotel smack in the heart of the tourist district. Our hotel was part of the same chain as the one we stayed last time and was also an “Apart” hotel. Rather than a full apartment, we booked a large room with a tiny kitchen built into a space about the size of master bedroom closet circa 1970. While tiny, it offered a 2 burner stove, a microwave and a full complement of dishes for 2, including a white table cloth and matching napkins. Despite looking out over Gran Via, our room was surprisingly quiet and had a window that actually opened.

After our 4.5 hour journey, the computer was out of juice, so recharging it was a priority. Here we ran into trouble. When we plugged it in, we heard a pop and lights went out. We found the fuse box by the door, but in the dark we couldn’t figure out which one to flip. The guys at the front desk were nice, but seemed to think I was a dimwitted female tourist. They patiently explained that we needed an adapter to use the electricity. DUH! I was vindicated when the valet confirmed that indeed it was the plug itself that was broken and restored power.

Our next order of business was to go out for ice cream, an excursion which took much longer than expected. Madrid seems to be more of pastry town than ice cream. While a number of famous patisseries exist, we were hard pressed to find an ice cream shop. Compared to Granada, the offerings were a bit scarce, significantly more expensive and not as good. After scoping out the nearby offerings we settled on one and then headed back to the hotel to sleep.

Friday morning we ventured out to the Rastro flea market.  The name “Rastro” meaning “trail” is said to have evolved from the bloody marks left on the street from the cattle being transported to nearby tanneries. Apparently, the market has been operating in Madrid since the Middles Ages and has the distinction of being one of the largest in Europe with over 3,500 stalls. There were definitely fewer stalls than that, probably since we were there on a Thursday and a cold snap had just hit the city. Normally, the market is only open Sundays and holidays. It’s a combination of true flea market selling used and antique furniture, records, cassettes, clothes, and handicrafts such as jewelry, purses, belts and low priced items. Zoe bought some Christmas gifts and I found a cool Spanish t-shirt.

Saturday was Zoe’s birthday and we headed to the Reina Sofia to see Guernica, Picasso’s most famous work. The surrounding exhibits showed other art produced during the time of the Spanish civil war as well as magazine covers and other propaganda on both sides of the war. We saved Guernica for last and while impressive, the kids were flummoxed by it.

Afterwards we went for churros. I found a “locals” place that was reviewed as having some of the tastiest chocolate to accompany the churros. First, the waiter brought a basket of fried dough. We ordered 2 types, one type was thin, teardrop shaped and somewhat cakelike and the other unabashedly fried dough of the variety found at the Italian fairs of my childhood. These were accompanied by cups of old-fashioned hot chocolate: the drink that preceded the bar…the drink that came to Europe by way of the Americas and was served at royal parties in Spain. It was thick, super rich and so unbelievably decadent that Zoe actually couldn’t finish hers. Afterwards, for giggles, we rode the teleferico, a cable car suspended above the park, and enjoyed seeing the fall colors.

That night I had reservations at a nearby Bistro to celebrate Zoe’s birthday. We were running a tad late, so when I arrived I unthinkingly blurted in English out that we had a reservation for a table of 3. This earned us an English menu. Bummer! But Zoe and JT ordered and asked questions about the food in their best Spanish and when it was time to order dessert, the waitress brought us Spanish menus. Shockingly, the kids ordered more chocolate for dessert. It was rather large sampler, which the waitress kindly advised us. Zoe was in the bathroom so I let the waitress know that they could both order one as it was a special occasion. She very sweetly put a candle in Zoe’s and we all sang Happy Birthday to her (adorably inflamed face).

We awoke to the sound of torrential rain (again). Fortunately, the worst part of the storm seemed to have passed during the early morning hours and we only had to deal with a light drizzle.  We were heading back to Granada late afternoon, so we checked out, leaving our luggage at the hotel. Our last stop was the Thyssen Art Museum (Thyssen of elevator and escalator fame). Apparently, the rain made this a popular choice and the queues were ridiculous even right at opening. (Although by the time we left, they were triple the size). It was worth the wait, however, as the collection was vast and contained works by nearly every famous western painter. My one regret was that we did not see the special Gaugin exhibit, since it was sold out. This irked me terribly because when we arrived in Malaga last September the same exhibit was there. In Malaga everyone is in beach mode so it was very lightly attended and we didn’t go.  

Our trip back to the bus station was a little too exciting for my taste. We made the mistake eating lunch in a restaurant, budgeting an hour when it took 90 minutes. This would have been fine, but we didn’t account for the time it took to pick up our bags. We had to wait an additional 10 minutes at the hotel because the guy at the front desk was alone. After a stressful Metro ride, we arrived just 10 minutes before our bus departed. We took the normal coach bus back which unfortunately stopped for a 30 minute break in the middle of nowhere. On the bright side, they offered movies, a bonus when the computer’s batteries ran out again. Back in Granada, we spent a leisurely Sunday recuperating: waking at 9:30, enjoying the relative warmth of the southern climate and playing around with some painting of our own. It was definitely the right choice to head out of town. 

Zoe Competes in a Swim Meet

If it wasn’t an adventure, then it wouldn’t be Granada. Zoe had her first swim meet this past weekend. On the Thursday before the Saturday meet, the team emailed stating that the team store would be open for purchases the following evening. The minimum required “uniform” was a swim cap, shirt and shorts. So at 5:30pm Friday (in the rain…again) Zoe and I set out to buy the required items. The map and directions to the store were akin to a scavenger hunt: at Fuente Nueve, in the sports pavilion, under the bleachers. And what a scavenger hunt it turned out to be. After disembarking from the bus, we wandered around for 45 minutes asking different people for Fuente Nueve and/or the street name but no one seemed to know where it was. Oh my kingdom for a smart phone! Finally, some telephone workers pointed us in the right direction. Literally, just as I was telling Zoe it was time to bail, we saw the sign for the Fuente Nueve. It turns out it is name of the University campus and the “street” was just a path running alongside the sports field and the pool where the team used to practice. If we’d been with the team before this season, then the vague directions would have been crystal clear.  Once there, we spent another 20 minutes trying to locate the right set of bleachers, but we persevered and found it a scant 15 minutes before the store closed. Zoe now has a smart matching polo and shorts with the team logo.

The team rented a bus for the meet which was in the city of Motril, on the coast about an hour away. Early the next morning, we took the city bus to the departure point. I am not usually wandering the streets of Granada at 7am on a Saturday morning, so I was flabbergasted by the number of inebriated college kids who were on their way home. Our local kebab shop was still open selling food to mop up the alcohol, as were other establishments (such as churro shops) who cater to late night crowd.  The bus was of the luxury coach variety and Zoe boarded with some of the girls from her team.

As JT and I had most of the day together, we decided to have breakfast out. He indulged in a croissant and hot cocoa while I ate toast smothered in butter. Then we headed to Granada’s science museum. We’ve been there before, but it’s huge and we hadn’t seen the whole of it. Because this is Andalucía they actually shut parts of the museum down for siesta. And because it was built with EU bonds no doubt, on a rainy Saturday this amazing museum was nearly deserted. After the special exhibit on the brain, my favorite part was the butterfly pavilion. JT and I watched a butterfly emerge from its cocoon in the hatching area, and later one of the workers showed us a gigantic moth with antenna that looked like feathers. He also showed us the moth’s chrysalis which actually is camouflaged to appear as dead leaves among wood bark on the jungle floor rather than hanging suspended.

Finally Zoe called to let us know she was on her way home.  Meets are a little different here. At her age, meets are for all kids aged 10 through 21. All the competitors swim together in an event based on their seed times. Kids aged 9 and younger compete in a separate series of swim meets. Children swim in events selected by their coaches, so Zoe swam her first 200 back and 100 breast. The meet was just a 1 day, the 2^nd day is held a couple weeks later. Parents are not allowed on the pool deck, only in the stands. They have officials who do all the timing and refereeing (which coupled with the empty multi-million dollar science museum starts to give you an insight to Spain’s many economic problems). Zoe swam well and will do one more meet this fall. Fortunately, the next one is in Granada so we’ll be able to see it. 

An early B-day for Zoe

Tom flew back to the US Thursday morning to deliver Liberator to St. John, so we decided to celebrate Zoe’s birthday a week early.  Our kitchen is a bit spare for preparing anything complex, so we let Zoe choose between a bought or homemade cake. Zoe picked a bought birthday cake, the first one in her short 11 years. She picked a classic European chocolate mousse cake and it tasted scrumptious. Her b-day dinner menu was none other than mac and cheese with hot dogs (they really don’t have sausage per se other than chorizo, which isn’t quite the same).

Since Tom left, the week has been hard on all of us. The kids have thoroughly enjoyed having their dad around all the time, and they really miss him.  To add insult to injury, the rain started the same morning he departed. It continued throughout the day and that night just before I was leaving to collect Zoe from swim practice, a front moved through bringing a deluge of rain. It was so fierce that it reminded me of summer thunder storms in the east. The water ran in rivers down the streets, the gutters spewed torrents across the sidewalks soaking my shoes. By the time arrived at the rec center, I looked like a drowned dog, despite my rain gear.  When I arrived at the rec center, the news was broadcasting stories of flooding across Andalucía. Fortunately, the front passed by the time Zoe and I walked back, so it was just normal rain. 

Thursdays are the most challenging day of the week. It’s the one day both kids have sports at the local rec center: JT plays soccer from 6-7 and Zoe swims at 8 (until 10pm!). It’s a 20 minute walk each way to our apartment, so it makes more sense for us to hang out during the hour-long break than to walk home and back again. It’s the perfect time to feed the kids, but finding something substantial to eat in Spain at 7pm can be a real challenge. Our neighborhood is full of students, so there are several kebab and pizza shops. The rec center is in a newer more “suburban” part of the city and so far we’ve only managed to find a couple of bakeries who sell empanadillas and pizza. So we’ve had to adopt the practice of eating our main meal at 2pm and then the lighter snack after sports.

In that way and many others Spain is slowly seeping into our daily practices. The kids regularly go to sleep quite late.  One of best things about our apartment is it takes 3 minutes for the kids to walk to school. The sun rises quite late even with the time change, so they naturally sleep in. I admit that more than once we have awoken in a panic after 8:15 on a school day. When Zoe swims, she tries to have a siesta the following afternoon. We also eat a ton more “white” foods here. This is partly because the bakery near our house sells baguettes for .70 euro or about a dollar. Fresh baked bread is irresistible, so it’s become part of both our breakfast and lunch menu. Also, pasta and pizza are regularly rotated through the meal list and whole grain options don’t really exist.

Time is a great healer. While some of the days that Tom is gone will feel endlessly long, the weeks will inevitably fly. We have less than 6 weeks left and many other places to visit and things to experience in Andalucía before we leave.