Normally the last day of school has the sentiment of liberation and excitement. But today is different... it´s my last day of Spanish school, and it´s with a feeling of sadness that I say goodbye to my classmates and teachers.
This week each student in my class had to give a presentation about their job. Today I gave an overview of the biopharmaceutical manufacturing process. The good news is that I couldn´t have done this a month ago, so progress has been made. The bad news is that I feel like I still have such a long way to go in terms of learning Spanish. But I´m convinced that if I continue working once I get home, I´ll eventually reach my goal of fluency.
In the month that I´ve been here in Madrid, the weather has ranged from drizzly to partly cloudy, but this week it´s been sunny and warm every day. It´s as if the city is giving me a hug goodbye, which isn´t making it any easier to leave. I´ve been feeling a little melancholy all week knowing that my time in Madrid is nearly over. This place has an addictive quality about it... the more time I spend here, the longer I want to stay. This week I´ve spent a lot of time simply walking around the city trying to soak up its essence. My conclusion: there´s no question about it... I will be back.
Well... this is my last post from Spain, but I´m planning to make a few more once I get back to (finally) show some photos and to wrap things up. You´ll hear more from me on Monday... from Los Ángeles.
To the city of Madrid: Gracias por todo lo que me has dado. Me encantas y te voy a extrañar. Pero regresaré otra vez, te lo prometo. Hasta la próxima...
Friday, February 13, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Chocolate con churros
*Ron Burgundy voice*
Ladies and gentlemen, can I please have your attention? I've just been handed an urgent and horrifying news story. I need all of you to stop what you're doing and listen.
I´m happy to report that I have found a possible path to world peace: chocolate con churros. I know churros exist in the U.S., but they´re something you´d get from a street vendor. What I´m talking about is the good stuff you get from a chocolatería, because the chocolate is the key. Hot chocolate in Spain is much thicker than at home; it´s more like a chocolate sauce... it´s too thick to drink, you need to eat it with a spoon (the joke is that it´s thick enough to stand up your spoon in the middle of the mug).
So when chocolate con churros arrives at your table, it looks more or less like this. You dip a churro into the thick chocolatey goodness and enjoy. Suddenly the cares of the world begin melting away and your worries dissipate completely. By the time you´re finished, you´re stress-free and feel completely at peace. So that´s when I started thinking: why not apply these affects to the problems of the world?
Take, for example, the Middle East conflict (apparently I don´t believe in starting small). Sure, I understand that Hamas and Israel don´t see eye-to-eye (Hamas´ expressed mission is to destroy the state of Israel, and Israel believes it should continue to exist), but it still seems like they should find some middle ground if they met over chocolate con churros. (Kind of like the Camp David Accords, except with chocolate con churros.)
Of course, the affects of chocolate con churros are only temporary, so it´s very possible their disagreements would re-emerge afterward. Okay, so I admit that it wouldn´t be a lasting peace... but they´re delicious anyway.
Ladies and gentlemen, can I please have your attention? I've just been handed an urgent and horrifying news story. I need all of you to stop what you're doing and listen.
I´m happy to report that I have found a possible path to world peace: chocolate con churros. I know churros exist in the U.S., but they´re something you´d get from a street vendor. What I´m talking about is the good stuff you get from a chocolatería, because the chocolate is the key. Hot chocolate in Spain is much thicker than at home; it´s more like a chocolate sauce... it´s too thick to drink, you need to eat it with a spoon (the joke is that it´s thick enough to stand up your spoon in the middle of the mug).
So when chocolate con churros arrives at your table, it looks more or less like this. You dip a churro into the thick chocolatey goodness and enjoy. Suddenly the cares of the world begin melting away and your worries dissipate completely. By the time you´re finished, you´re stress-free and feel completely at peace. So that´s when I started thinking: why not apply these affects to the problems of the world?
Take, for example, the Middle East conflict (apparently I don´t believe in starting small). Sure, I understand that Hamas and Israel don´t see eye-to-eye (Hamas´ expressed mission is to destroy the state of Israel, and Israel believes it should continue to exist), but it still seems like they should find some middle ground if they met over chocolate con churros. (Kind of like the Camp David Accords, except with chocolate con churros.)
Of course, the affects of chocolate con churros are only temporary, so it´s very possible their disagreements would re-emerge afterward. Okay, so I admit that it wouldn´t be a lasting peace... but they´re delicious anyway.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Road Trip: Córdoba
Author´s note: Be forwarned that you are going to read the inner-workings of an engineer´s mind, and for some that may be a frightening experience.
I decided to get out of town this weekend, and took the AVE (Spain´s high speed train) south to Córdoba, in the state of Andalucía. I´m seeking warmer temperatures, new culinary experiences, and a glimpse of Moorish influence on Spain. The trip is ~400km (250mi), but takes only 1hr 40min by AVE. (There was a speedometer in my train car, and I noticed a maximum speed of 270km/hr (~170mph).)
Andalucía is on the southern coast of Spain, and is known for Arab influence in the architecture and food (and probably other things, too). This is explained by the fact that the Moors conquered the Iberian Peninsula (what is now Spain and Portugal) in the 8th century, and Spain did not re-gain control of Andalucía until 1492 (big year for Spain). The main attraction in Córdoba is the Mezquita-Catedral, which was built in the 8th century to be the largest mosque in the world. The building is beautiful and quite impressive if for no other reason that its sheer size; the inside is basically just one football-field-sized room supported by nearly a thousand double-arched columns. After the Christians´re-conquest of the area, the mosque was converted to a cathedral.
The mosque is by far the most famous and most impressive site in the city. However, I could not avoid playing to the stereotype: the site that resonated most with me was the river bridge that was built by the Romans in the 1st century, and is still in use today (as a pedestrian bridge). Walking around on the 2,000-year old bridge, I couldn´t help thinking about the engineers who designed it and oversaw its construction. Did these men set out to build a bridge that would last millenia, or were they just going to work and doing a job?
The experience reminds me of the time I visited Segovia (a town northwest of Madrid) two years ago. There is a Roman aqueduct in Segovia built in the 1st century without mortar or clamps, that is in immaculate condition today. It´s more than impressive; it´s inspiring... it´s reasons like this you decide to go to engineering school.
I break for lunch to ponder more questions about Roman engineering. (I have a lunch of native Andalucian dishes: salmorejo (somewhere inbetween a sauce and a soup, and made from made from tomatoes, bread, oil, garlic and vinegar) and flaminquín (sort of like a Spanish version of chicken cordon-bleu).) If I had been born in 1st century Rome, would I still have ended up as an engineer? Am I as talented as these men obviously were? Were they educated at a university or through apprentiseship? Were the same stereotypes true back then... Were Roman engineers socially awkward around women? Did they have unruly hair and wear rumpled clothes? Were they workaholics?
In the end, I decide (without evidence) that the answers to these questions are all ¨yes¨. In other words, I would have fit right in.
I decided to get out of town this weekend, and took the AVE (Spain´s high speed train) south to Córdoba, in the state of Andalucía. I´m seeking warmer temperatures, new culinary experiences, and a glimpse of Moorish influence on Spain. The trip is ~400km (250mi), but takes only 1hr 40min by AVE. (There was a speedometer in my train car, and I noticed a maximum speed of 270km/hr (~170mph).)
Andalucía is on the southern coast of Spain, and is known for Arab influence in the architecture and food (and probably other things, too). This is explained by the fact that the Moors conquered the Iberian Peninsula (what is now Spain and Portugal) in the 8th century, and Spain did not re-gain control of Andalucía until 1492 (big year for Spain). The main attraction in Córdoba is the Mezquita-Catedral, which was built in the 8th century to be the largest mosque in the world. The building is beautiful and quite impressive if for no other reason that its sheer size; the inside is basically just one football-field-sized room supported by nearly a thousand double-arched columns. After the Christians´re-conquest of the area, the mosque was converted to a cathedral.
The mosque is by far the most famous and most impressive site in the city. However, I could not avoid playing to the stereotype: the site that resonated most with me was the river bridge that was built by the Romans in the 1st century, and is still in use today (as a pedestrian bridge). Walking around on the 2,000-year old bridge, I couldn´t help thinking about the engineers who designed it and oversaw its construction. Did these men set out to build a bridge that would last millenia, or were they just going to work and doing a job?
The experience reminds me of the time I visited Segovia (a town northwest of Madrid) two years ago. There is a Roman aqueduct in Segovia built in the 1st century without mortar or clamps, that is in immaculate condition today. It´s more than impressive; it´s inspiring... it´s reasons like this you decide to go to engineering school.
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I break for lunch to ponder more questions about Roman engineering. (I have a lunch of native Andalucian dishes: salmorejo (somewhere inbetween a sauce and a soup, and made from made from tomatoes, bread, oil, garlic and vinegar) and flaminquín (sort of like a Spanish version of chicken cordon-bleu).) If I had been born in 1st century Rome, would I still have ended up as an engineer? Am I as talented as these men obviously were? Were they educated at a university or through apprentiseship? Were the same stereotypes true back then... Were Roman engineers socially awkward around women? Did they have unruly hair and wear rumpled clothes? Were they workaholics?
In the end, I decide (without evidence) that the answers to these questions are all ¨yes¨. In other words, I would have fit right in.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Un poquito sobre la moda
I´ve long been an outspoken critic of Ugg boots. They give a woman a frumpy, horizontal appearance; in short, they´re unflattering. And I don´t care how comfortable they are... you´re better off wearing tennis shoes. The prevalence of Ugg boots in the U.S. has been like a scourge on the land.
So I´m happy to report that I´ve made zero Ugg sightings since I´ve been in Spain. Instead, it´s very common for women here to wear fashion boots that look similar to English-style riding boots (I´ve seen them both with and without heels). This trend is much more flattering... these boots give a sleek, slender appearance. I´ve seen these boots in the U.S. before, but certainly not with this frequency.
Here´s to hoping this trend makes it across the pond, and cleanses our society of Ugg boots forever. :)
So I´m happy to report that I´ve made zero Ugg sightings since I´ve been in Spain. Instead, it´s very common for women here to wear fashion boots that look similar to English-style riding boots (I´ve seen them both with and without heels). This trend is much more flattering... these boots give a sleek, slender appearance. I´ve seen these boots in the U.S. before, but certainly not with this frequency.
Here´s to hoping this trend makes it across the pond, and cleanses our society of Ugg boots forever. :)
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Menú del día
In Spain, people don´t take a bagged lunch to work... it´s just not done. And most companies do not have cafeterias on-site, so the vast majority of workers (both blue- and white-collar) go out to eat for lunch. To help the workforce of Spain eat lunch cheaply, most restaurants and bars have a menú del día during lunch hours (in Spain, typical lunch times range from 1:30pm to 3pm; but this does not stop them from refering to lunch time as ¨mediodía¨).
The menú del día is a pre-fixe menu that usually has 3 or 4 starters, 5 or 6 mains, and includes a drink (most people have beer or wine), dessert, and coffee. Depending on the level of the restaurant, the menú del día may cost between €8 to 15. Needless to say, this is something we need to import to the U.S. Each restaurant/bar posts the menú del día in the window or outside so you can decide if you´re interested.
If you walk around town looking at the menús del día, one dish you will often see is Cocido Madrileño. Madrileños are very proud of this dish because it is native to Madrid (most of the famous Spanish dishes are from the provinces). It´s quite an interesting dish because it is both a starter and an entrée.
Cocido Madrileño is a chickpea stew with vegetables and several types of meat. It arrives at your table in a small clay pot, and is accompanied by a bowl of fidoes (tiny little pieces of pasta). Using the lid of the clay pot as a strainer, you pour the broth (and only the broth) of the stew into the fideos, and there´s your starter (this is actually my favorite part). When you´ve finished that, you pour the solids remaining in the clay pot onto a plate, and this is your entrée. It´s not cocido madrileño without chickpeas, but the rest can be any number of a combination of vegetables and meats. Typically you´ll find carrots, potatoes, various sausages, beef, chicken, or even callos (Callos translates to stripe in English, but I´d never heard of this word to refer to a food before... I´ll talk more about callos in a future post).
It´s not my favorite Spanish dish, but it´s a necessary part of the Madrileño experience, and can be quite good depending on where you go. Taberna La Bola has a reupation for the best cocido madrileño in town, and it´s certainly the best place I´ve had it.
The menú del día is a pre-fixe menu that usually has 3 or 4 starters, 5 or 6 mains, and includes a drink (most people have beer or wine), dessert, and coffee. Depending on the level of the restaurant, the menú del día may cost between €8 to 15. Needless to say, this is something we need to import to the U.S. Each restaurant/bar posts the menú del día in the window or outside so you can decide if you´re interested.
If you walk around town looking at the menús del día, one dish you will often see is Cocido Madrileño. Madrileños are very proud of this dish because it is native to Madrid (most of the famous Spanish dishes are from the provinces). It´s quite an interesting dish because it is both a starter and an entrée.
Cocido Madrileño is a chickpea stew with vegetables and several types of meat. It arrives at your table in a small clay pot, and is accompanied by a bowl of fidoes (tiny little pieces of pasta). Using the lid of the clay pot as a strainer, you pour the broth (and only the broth) of the stew into the fideos, and there´s your starter (this is actually my favorite part). When you´ve finished that, you pour the solids remaining in the clay pot onto a plate, and this is your entrée. It´s not cocido madrileño without chickpeas, but the rest can be any number of a combination of vegetables and meats. Typically you´ll find carrots, potatoes, various sausages, beef, chicken, or even callos (Callos translates to stripe in English, but I´d never heard of this word to refer to a food before... I´ll talk more about callos in a future post).
It´s not my favorite Spanish dish, but it´s a necessary part of the Madrileño experience, and can be quite good depending on where you go. Taberna La Bola has a reupation for the best cocido madrileño in town, and it´s certainly the best place I´ve had it.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Wait, you´re not German?
I´m gonna take a break from talking about food today (but don´t worry, I have plenty more to talk about in that area) to share a bit of my day-to-day life as an ex-pat (I prefer to think of myself as a short-term ex-pat rather than a tourist).
Back in 2006, I was traveling back and forth to Germany on a fairly regular basis for work. I was a little surprised when I would be at a restaurant with American colleages, and the waiter would address everyone in English, but then try to speak to me in German . (For the record, my family background is a mixture of several northern European countries including: Finland, Estonia, Slovakia, Germany, Scotland, and some that escape my memory at the moment. And I don´t speak German.)
Sure, I understand that I have a vaguely German body type (tall, thin, blue eyes, light brown hair), but it was the conviction with which people believed I was German that surprised me. There is one particular example that stands out in my memory when I went into a coffee shop with an American colleague. My colleague asked the woman behind the counter if she spoke English. She replied that she did not, then asked if we spoke German. When he replied that we did not, we all looked at each other as if to say, ¨wow, this is going to be interesting.¨Then she looked at me a little confused and asked (in German), ¨Wait, you don´t speak German?!?¨
But okay, that was Germany; it´s understandable for people to get confused when everyone else around you is German. So I was a little surprised when it started happening here in Spain. There are students in my school from all over the world (including the U.S.), and we have introductions whenever a new student joins class. Here´s how it typically goes:
Maestra (or whoever): ¨So Cristian (that´s what they call me here), I guess you´re German. Or is it Dutch?¨
Me: ¨No, I´m from the U.S.¨
Maestra: ¨Really? But you look very German!¨
Me: ¨Yeah, a lot of people tell me that. But I´m definitely from the U.S.¨
Maestra: ¨But you even speak with a German accent!¨(referring to my accent while speaking Spanish)
Me: ¨What?!? I do?¨
Maestra: ¨Yes, a little bit. But your accent definitely doesn´t sound English. Are your parents from Germany?¨
Me: ¨No, I´m 4th generation U.S.¨
Maestra: ¨Really? Well do you speak German as well as English?¨
Back in 2006, I was traveling back and forth to Germany on a fairly regular basis for work. I was a little surprised when I would be at a restaurant with American colleages, and the waiter would address everyone in English, but then try to speak to me in German . (For the record, my family background is a mixture of several northern European countries including: Finland, Estonia, Slovakia, Germany, Scotland, and some that escape my memory at the moment. And I don´t speak German.)
Sure, I understand that I have a vaguely German body type (tall, thin, blue eyes, light brown hair), but it was the conviction with which people believed I was German that surprised me. There is one particular example that stands out in my memory when I went into a coffee shop with an American colleague. My colleague asked the woman behind the counter if she spoke English. She replied that she did not, then asked if we spoke German. When he replied that we did not, we all looked at each other as if to say, ¨wow, this is going to be interesting.¨Then she looked at me a little confused and asked (in German), ¨Wait, you don´t speak German?!?¨
But okay, that was Germany; it´s understandable for people to get confused when everyone else around you is German. So I was a little surprised when it started happening here in Spain. There are students in my school from all over the world (including the U.S.), and we have introductions whenever a new student joins class. Here´s how it typically goes:
Maestra (or whoever): ¨So Cristian (that´s what they call me here), I guess you´re German. Or is it Dutch?¨
Me: ¨No, I´m from the U.S.¨
Maestra: ¨Really? But you look very German!¨
Me: ¨Yeah, a lot of people tell me that. But I´m definitely from the U.S.¨
Maestra: ¨But you even speak with a German accent!¨(referring to my accent while speaking Spanish)
Me: ¨What?!? I do?¨
Maestra: ¨Yes, a little bit. But your accent definitely doesn´t sound English. Are your parents from Germany?¨
Me: ¨No, I´m 4th generation U.S.¨
Maestra: ¨Really? Well do you speak German as well as English?¨
Friday, January 30, 2009
Café con leche and the Boston Tea Party
I don´t typically drink coffee when I´m in the US, but coffee is such an obsession in Spain that I thought I should give it a try to see what all the fuss is about. The most common way to take your coffee in Spain is con leche. Here´s how it works: Your waiter brings over a small mug that´s half-full of strong Spanish coffee made by an espresso machine. He places the mug in front of you, then tops it off with a pitcher of steamed milk.
Now you might be thinking: ¨that sounds a lot like the lattes I get from Starbucks¨. Trust me: it´s not. As I said, I don´t typically drink coffee when I´m in the US, but now I´m having thoughts that I should bring home a case of Spanish coffee and buy an espresso machine when I get home. It´s that good.
Well, my time in Spain is already half-way through. I certainly feel more comfortable speaking Spanish than I did two weeks ago, but I have the feeling that I´d need another several weeks to really speak well. Sadly, I´m due back in the office on Feb 16.
In class this week, each of us had to give a presentation about our home country. During my presentation, someone asked about the Boston Tea Party, and I´m happy to report that I was able to relate the story without too much difficulty. This is a big improvement over last week when I struggled to tell the story of the first Thanksgiving. So I guess progress is being made after all...
Now you might be thinking: ¨that sounds a lot like the lattes I get from Starbucks¨. Trust me: it´s not. As I said, I don´t typically drink coffee when I´m in the US, but now I´m having thoughts that I should bring home a case of Spanish coffee and buy an espresso machine when I get home. It´s that good.
Well, my time in Spain is already half-way through. I certainly feel more comfortable speaking Spanish than I did two weeks ago, but I have the feeling that I´d need another several weeks to really speak well. Sadly, I´m due back in the office on Feb 16.
In class this week, each of us had to give a presentation about our home country. During my presentation, someone asked about the Boston Tea Party, and I´m happy to report that I was able to relate the story without too much difficulty. This is a big improvement over last week when I struggled to tell the story of the first Thanksgiving. So I guess progress is being made after all...
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