Bienvenidos a Madrid

*warning: I have no spell check so you will all now see how terrible a speller/ what a sloppy typer I am*

I can´t believe I have already been in Madrid for half a month...and that I haven´t yet written about it. After a relatively smooth flight, I arrived in Madrid at 6:30 am local time. I should have been more sleepy since according to my internal clock it was nearing 1 am, but the excitement of being in a new country definately enlivened me.

Robert, Manhattan´s program director here in Madrid, kindly picked me up from the airport to drive me to my new home for the next three months. I knew little about it except that it wasn´t exactly close to the Complutense and that I was sharing the apartment with three other people, so I was eager to see where I´d be living. When I arrived, I was relieved to see that none of my roomates were home: After a 7 and a half hour flight I wasn´t exactly eager to do the whole introduction thing- and in Spanish no less. Plus, it gave me a nice opportunity to scope out the place.
The apartment is very different from what I expected, though not in a bad way. In fact it is quite nicer than what I imagined. We have two stories within a larger, gated complex with a beautiful private terrace, our own kitchen, and a decent sized living room. My room, the master bedroom, is warm and sunny, with it´s own tv, plenty of closet space and my very own bathroom. A place like this would run you hundreds of thousands, if not millions, in New York City- but then again, what doesn´t?

However, though the apartment is spacious and comfortable, it is far from what I wanted. For starters, being there I don´t even feel as if I am in Madrid. The whole place is very modern as is the surrounding neighborhood. My entire block is filled with apartments, supermarkets, and banks. No where in sight can you find the historic townhouses or beautiful fountains filling the tourist books. The only slice of Spanish culture I have is the small cafeterìa down the street, the one right between the chinese restuarant and the video rental store.

But worst of all is not the atmosphere, but the location itself. I had been informed that I had a a fairly long communte to the Completense everyday, but I didn´t realize until I got here, though I had suspected, that I am also at least a half an hour away from all the other students as well as ANYTHING worthwhile in the city. Everyday I leave for my 3 oclock class before 2; if I want to go for a quick shopping trip, I have to factor in at least an hour and a half for the commute; At night, if I want to meet friends in Al Centro around 1, I must catch the last bus at 11:15 or else suffer through the painfully long ¨night bus¨that takes you all over the city; and then, to come home, its either wait until 6am when public transportation reopens or take that damn night bus again. It all SUCKS.

But, despite my lousy living situation, I am actually having a good time. My roommate Julie, though not exactly my first choice of companion, is very nice and has taken me out with her a few times. My first night out, she took me to a houseparty a client of hers was having. Now, Madrileños don´t often party in their homes, but this guy knew how to do it right. I honestly don´t know how a girl like Julie got invited to such an event. The apartment itself was spectacular. Located on a corner building right off Puerta del Sol, the balconies that cover it look over the many people roaming the streets from bar to bar. Inside, though spacious, it was near impossible to move with all the people there and even harder to hear over the noise of the DJ plaing in the main room. It was definately a very trendy, underground, ¨lets snort lines in the back room¨ type of party. Out in the open, there were plenty of ¨substances¨ as well: I saw at least two tables covered with bottles of rum, vodka, coke, and redbull for the taking. The host was very friendly and encouraged everyone to help themselves. Though he didn´t speak much English, he was quick to share with me at least one phrase he had learned: ¨Grab a drink and let´s fucking party¨.

Despite that first impressive night, Julie has not been much of a party animal. Instead I have mostly been hanging out with some of my classmates from the Complutense. We have gone to all sorts of places from a restuarant with a tapdancer for entertainment, to a club that was once a royal palace, to the typical, though always reliable, Irish pub. Unfortunately, however, I still have the dreaded commute home to worry about whenever I go out. It´s always a lose-lose situation: Either wander for blocks to find a night bus-stop and try to hold your bladder throughout the long ride or go home at 6 am when the metro reopens and shamefully walk into your apartment as your fruitful, productive flatmates eat their breakfast before work. Either way, lets be honest, little pride is involved.