This is the beginning of the Fall.....

The precipitation in Espana drops for the most part on the flat area.

Cam y Alex hanging in the park.

The past two weeks have been a semblance of a normal and habitual life in Spain.... as boring as that may sound... its still quite exuberant and full of life. My friend Pepper (yes, the spice and the person have become one) and I have met a few times at the parks to take in the Spanish life to its fullest. Watching the Granpas play with their nietos and shuttling them from one piece of playground equipment to the next. Huge grins plastered on small children's faces as they hurl their little arms and legs down various slides and climbing apparatuseseses into the awaiting patriarchal arms, strong and weathered all the same.

In El Jarin Capricho... strumming...

As Pep and I pass time talking about the various different aspects we have come to enjoy and embrace, a small boy comes to listen to me strum the guitar. He listens with the correct amount of silence until the end of a song and gives a standing/jumping ovation. The drool which was barely hanging on to the side of his cheek has no chance of survival after the explosion of claps and laughter. A few songs, the mom thanks me for entertaining her little drool production factory, and 'el nino' squeals off to find another form of interest. A well spent afternoon.

Beyond lazy Sundays in the park, I have filled my evening with various metro rides and with a few English classes spotted in between here and there. Couchsurfing has been put on a hiatus for the month of October but as we end the month with Halloween in our sights, the flat prepares to open its door once again and take on a fresh wave of surfers in November. I doubt it will be as crazy as summer was, as there are not as many travelers, but you never know... stranger things have happened here in Madrid.

In addition to making common house improvements, I've taken upon the task of turning my balcony into a small garden. Being embedded in the city has brought out the urge to have some sort of Green in my life... I am open to any suggestions... as I have only attempted growing things out of dirt once in my life... and it was quite the task... I will give you updates on my progress...

Not the most exciting of posts but there is some value in returning to a normal cycle of life... but for you adrenaline junkies... here is a list of upcoming events!

• Halloween on the Finca: "Its terror, not sexi" Ivan's explaining how you are not to dress like a slut for Halloween in Madrid

• The Re-Opening of the Surf Hostel: El Gran Salon <----- click here We've put a lot of work into the place....

• My continued quest to educate as many Madrilenos as possible... for a small fee of course.
  

• The continued conquest of the ARIZONA REDBIRDS IN THE NFC WEST... yes, I have to stay up until 4-5am usually to watch the game, and thats only if a good friend skypes me, sets the computer in front of the TV while I yell and scream 5000miles away... Rediculous.. NO... Just Loyal!

• Thanksgiving! Gathering all the Americans I know to celebrate the offering of corn, vegetables, and other scrumptious foods from the Native Americans to our European settlers in North America... While the settlers returned the favor by giving them swine flu blankets.... (Don't send hate mail, I love Thanksgiving, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity)
  

Have you seen this mouth.... You can hear it from anywhere...

As always, come to Spain and enjoy all the things you are missing... you can only live vicariously through me for so long, before you take the plunge and come out.... except for Kim... we have noise restrictions here...

-Lo

"He has all the virtures I dislike and none of the vices I admire."
-W. Churchill

Where is the effing band!! THEY'RE ON IN 2 MINUTES!!

As most of you know, the flat here in Madrid participates in Couchsurfing.org. It has been one of the most rewarding parts of moving to Spain. Being able to meet new people from all over the world, having many different cultures show up on your doorstep opening horizons and removing misplaced stereotypes (most of the time) has been very rewarding. (One being that Americans don't know how to cook which I gladly dispell! The conversation usually starts by, "Don't you guys just eat fast food..... )

The Highway Children.
Back: Jodie Oaks, Uncle Meat, Flor
Front: Marquee Moon, Bottomless Liter, Willly Rockefeller, and Wilson Silvers

Our living room transforms into a hostel. Different furniture formations with proper names have been assigned:i.e. large dinner formation, movie watching formation, large sleep formation and so and so forth... the two couches turn into beds,and we have two single mattresses that go into the back of the room, next to the pole. One group in particular that has recently visited our hostel and the reason I allude to Couchsurfing, is the band: Uncle Meat and the Highway Children.

Yes, that is your cue to look up their Myspace and actually see who I am talking about. (www.myspace/meatykids) They have traveled down Europe from Manchester, England spreading the sweet sounds of folkiness and freelove and joy. As with any awesome traveling folk rock band that spends a few days(a couple of weeks really) at your house, long nites were had, short mornings ensued,and a slight split of the forehead followed me around for the remainder of the day. Each morning is started with the strumming of a banjo or mandolin and a slight smell lingers from the night before. Me and the flatmates would show up to some of their street performances to give the crowd a boost of energy and show our undying support. The patrons of Madrid are usually easily to obliged, especially if you sound good.

Highway Children on a train... Taking the Metro by storm...

One fine evening we made it out to Club Nuit with the band, a former strip club turned bar (you can't even tell with all the mirrors and awesome faux marble statues) and their special, 5euro all you can drink from 10-12... The alcohol is watered down, the bartenders are smug, and the beer is served by the 4ounce cup but even in the face of adversity one can enjoy themselves quite nicely. Although Club Nuit was a blast, the most memorable moment of the night was the metro home... The fun part about hanging with the band is that at a moments notice, they can break out the instruments and turn your life into a small music video. Waiting 10 minutes goes by really quick when you got a band by your side and the metro ride.... it went by in a jiff... don't know how much the one spanish lady appreciated when a motly crue of hippie rockers and their groupies sat next to her on the train, (she switched cars at the next stop) but I loved it.
Busking at Sol.

Along with great music, it was great fun getting to know what it takes to get on the road, challenge the world, and to see a complete different way of life. I learned a fair amount of Manchester slang (Chip you...) and the large scale meals cooked together are always great gatherings. I am sure we will see this group of wild childs again and more crazed nights to

ensue.

In other new, the departure of Caterina and other small Italian adventures, the world (the flat) is changed forever... find this and tonnes of other stories right here in Madrid... we'll do it over a big flat dinner... see you then.

-Lo

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but the conquest of it"
-Unknown

White Nights and Blurry Mornings...

Kevin has come and gone along with our good Austrian friend Phil but the tales of summer will be told for generations to come. They may include but are not limited to the following stories:

La Tomatina- Dirty Wet Tomato Red Fest.

Wingmans- The Fraternal Order of Crazy Men in Spain.

Recuerde Plaza Dos de Mayo!- The warcry will ring for decades.

Parque Warner- Its like you’re in Hollywood, except a little more classy.

El Tigre- Because El Leon doesn’t sound as cool.

Feliz Cumpleanos a mi- That means happy birthday to me.

Parilla- Like a sausagefest, except with more meat.

Fiesta en la Finca- Horses, BBQ, Eggs, Luis Jackson, and Ivanloca (Maniac).

Phil getting the most action he's had in years.....

Any of the above stories may be elaborated on by myself or Kevin. And half the tales will be withheld from the record books to remain as crazy memories of a wild month filled with madness and debauchery.

So I move on from a month filled of Hollywood a.k.a. Kevin expecting things to slow down a bit. This is not necessarily the case for Spain. The weather has cooled down a bit allowing Madrid to reawaken from its sleepy summer slumber. Holidays have ended and people and the Spaniards are back doing the things they do best, eating great food and consuming (you can’t say dr*nk, King’s Rule) wonderful beverages. Tintos de Verano flowed throughout the summer giving the drinker a brief respite from the unyielding heat.

So in honor of the last days of Summer what does Madrid do…. Throw a party of course. La Noche en Blanco (White Night) is Madrid last hurrah for summer bringing together the city’s biggest bands, best museums, performers, and sporting events. The museums open up their doors starting at 10pm and stay open until the party stops, 6am. Children and elderly alike use this excuse to skip a night of sleep and revel in the joys of the nightlife. The streets are quarantined from auto traffic and the people roam from barrio to barrio rediscovering the art and culture distinct to each area. The concerts don’t stop all night as you see Spanish bands, rappers, English rock, in addition to the broad range of street performing per usual from Madrid. Artwork from all of the country is displayed as people revel in the end of summer party. My flatmates and myself roamed the city for hours receiving an education on how successful a citywide party can be, especially when provided with the proper lubrication.

Me: and yes, its made from real Zebra!

We now move toward a more beer-centric style of outing in honor of Oktoberfest just a `hop’ around the corner in Germany. So cozy up as the leaves turn shades of yellow and orange with your frothy lager or warmed buttered rum… time for fall.

October starts and I start teaching classes again as all the kids head back to school. Stay tuned and I’ll keep you informed on what else Spain has in store for the closing of the year. Stop on by if you’re in town… I’ll take you to El Tigre… ask Kevin… he’ll let you know how it is.

Coming soon in the next edition of Angeloco: The Band: Uncle Meat and the Highway Children, they came, they saw, they were conquered...

-Lo

"Live as if you'll die tomorrow, Learn as if you'll live forever." -Ghandi

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes

For those of you who have not heard of La Tomatina, I have provided the following link for your information.

http://abcnews.go.com/Travel/story?id=5669478&page=1

It has pictures and little background story that every good red blooded American loves to enjoy. Now, I will tell you the real story behind that goes down in this little festival in Buñol, Spain.

ETA of the first thrown Tomato: Wednesday August 26th 2009, 11:00:00


Time: Saturday August 22th 2009, 15:35:09 (yes its a 24hr clock, rookies)

What one must do to begin La Tomatina is to sit around your living room with 6 of your closest boys, keep knocking around the idea of, "Yeah, man, lets effing go to the Tomatina, it'll be effing awesome!! etc... etc.."

This process takes place over at least 4 days. Everyone thinks its a great idea, but no one really makes any progress toward the goal of getting to the festival. Finally, a day before the party, your Austrian friend goes on-line and books two rental cars for 2 days. (Thank you Goose) After the cars are booked, you must go to El Rastro (the huge flea market down the street) to find clothes that you know will be destroyed. This step is optional, but fun nonetheless.

Time: Tuesday August 25th 2009, 16:15:48

The whole crew is assembled. 8 unripened boys heading to La Tomatina to become Marinara made Men. We pile into the Citroen C3's provided by the rental agency and head on the road.

Time: Tuesday August 25th 2009, 20:30:22

Flight Crews
Red: Wildcard, Rod, Goose, Sundown
Blue: Maverick, Iceman, Viper, Hollywood.

Four hours later, and we are still in the greater Madrid area. We have no clue which way is which and the Google Maps we have, aren't very good. We have made several stops for directions to get back on track, which is harder than you think when you haven't driven a car or used the freeway system, and solely relied on the metro for the past 3 months.

A quick bite to eat, some last minute supplies, and we are back on the road. A few crucial double albums are bought for the road trip off the side of the road. (De La Soul and STP) Road antics ensue, two cars packed full of vigor and excitement rage through the Spanish countryside to the coast. There may have been a full moon-ing, birds flying, and a few mama jokes thrown from car to car, but all expected.

Time: Wednesday August 26th 2009, 1:08:55

We arrive. Bodies achey and bladders full from the 5.5hour drive. We make one quick lap around the pueblo in the cars to find the best location to set camp, which took 5 minutes. Get out change into proper tomato attire and head to the drinking holes. 100-200 early revelers are out and about in the square with the same agenda as ours... Stay out until the last tomato is tossed.

Time: Wednesday August 26th 2009, 8:08:54

The sun starts to breach over the Spanish skyline. People who aren't crazy and decided to sleep a few hours start to horde in. The streets that were only littered with people throughout the night start to get full. The crew grab their last beers before the walk to the towne center. Chants, singing, and dancing accompany us as we head to the where all the action will go down. We were looking for the ham pole.

For those of you who don't know about the ham pole, where have you been... its a a greased telephone pole. Thats right a freaking 30foot telephone pole, greased with fat, I'm pretty sure its pig fat, and it has a ham on top of it... yes, a big 15lb ham.

What a ham pole looks like.

The point of the ham pole, is that the festival doesn't officially start until someone gets that freaking ham. We made valient efforts. At one point I had at leastfive full grown humans on my shoulders before the man-pile toppled over. And still no ham. Hours go by. The crew is exhausted. The ham taunts us from atop this over grown 30ft greased toothpick. Exhaustion starts to consume me as my body begs for me to halt my exertions.

Time: Wednesday August 26th 2009, 11:00:00

The water cannon sounds! A second wave of excitement and energy surge through my body. The hair stands on my arms. Like giants lumbering through a dense forest, the massive dump trucks full of tomatoes plow their way through the field of humans. The tiny streets of the small pueblo can barely fit the trucks and the humans. People press each other up against the walls to avoid the large wheels. Like large koopa-troopa transports, the trucks are hold thousands of pounds of tomatoes and about 20 people hurling tomatoes at the bystanders waiting for their chance to hurl there own tomatoes.

When the trucks finally get to their pre-decided spots, they unload. The hordes ravage the pile of tomatoes. The smell of ripen tomatoes is inescapable. Tomatoes without wings learn to fly. Chaos ensues and there is no order, no rhyme, nor rhythm for the next hour. You lose your friends in the following mayhem. Bend down to grab tomatoes, only to stand up and get 3 to the face and one to the chest. I grab tomatoes by the half dozen and look for my next victim. I am hunting. I find Tucker, we exchange tomato melees, and as he reaches down for more ammunition, I fill his face with a virile tomato paste. (He thanked later for this, as he found a nice young lady to remove the paste, with her bra) No one said it was a friendly food fight, just a food fight.

Time: Wednesday 26th 2009, 11:15:00

The second cannon sounds. No one is spared from the battle. No prisoners. We start the long walk back up the hill to find refuge. The locals bring out their hoses to try and rinse off some of the revelers along the way back to reality. The acid from the tomatoes itches the skin and burns the eyes. I see a pillow take flight and explode full of feathers. The feather stick quite will to my hair and I lumber back to the car looking like a bad halloween chicken. Testosterone crazed men try to rip the shirts of peoples backs on the walk back. I find Kevin along the way to they car. I take a second look at him and realize his face is not normal. Two butterfly stitches are attached to the right side of his face.

"WTF" I said.
"I got uppercutted in the face, I've been at the medical/festival headquarters for an hour"
"That sux"

Like I said, it was not a friendly fight.

Time: Wednesday 26th 2009, 4:20:09

Iceman after hours of being faced by tomatoes.

We get to the cars and rinse off as best as possible. I succumb to my exhaustion as we take our crew to the beach in Valencia. The water of the Mediterranean washes over us like a warm salt bath. We find some shade next to a wall and all pass out for an hour or more. We make the long trek back to Madrid and try to recall what we just experienced.

"Did that just happen?"
"Yeah, I think it did."

-Lo

"Every fight is a food fight when you're a cannibal" - Demetri Martin

Back in Madrid: Fiesta de La Paloma

My days in camp are over... I've learned tons of lessons about children, games, language barriers, and Spanish life. I plan on heading back to Acalà for the fiestas at the end of August, but I'm sure I'll have a full entry on those nights... Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

La Latina

My barrio is one of the most international areas of Madrid, La Latina. You have to go off the tourist beaten path to find the small boutiques, international cuisine, and rocking bars. Anything ranging from South American flare to the Middle Eastern hooka lounges, La Latina is where you want to be for the world vibe. This weekend was the fiesta of the patron saint of La Latina, La Virgen de La Paloma. Needless to say, Spaniards don't need a reason to party, but it always helps to have a common Saint to cheers to...

Fireworks booming over La Latina.

Tucker (the new flatmate), Erik (Couchsurfer), Robin (fellow teacher on the farm) and I head out to the main plaza to throw back a couple litros. My photojournalistic side takes over and the memory card starts to fill up. Thousands of revelers walking shoulder to shoulder with no other goal except to eat good eats, drink good drinks, sing good sings, and smoke good smokes.

Advertencia!: When ordering a 'Mini' expect a liter of whatever drink you ordered...
Ex: Dame un Mini de Gin y Tonic => Expect a liter cup half full of Gin and half full of Tonic.
Its like calling a fat guy 'Tiny'

The masses congregate around fountains taking up any ground space available to give the legs a rest, take in the view, and get some people watching done.... maybe splash a girl or two.

One interesting aspect of the fiestas that they are non-discriminant to age. I have seen 2 year olds out with their parents and I have seen a 75 year old couple out on the town in traditional Spanish garm, full flamenco dress in tow. This is all at 3 or 4 in the morning... It may seem strange, and you would think the kids and the grandparents would both need naps, but the Spaniards pull it off well.

The fireworks put on a spectacular show, the fiesta starts to wind down, me and the boys say good-bye to the awefully friendly Spanish girls we met along the way, and we start the trek home. The glow of the Sun starts to peer over the city, adding additional haze to my sleep lacking mind. La Paloma has done it again.

Tucker (the bearded wonder), Me, Maria, and the two Sonyas at the end of Fiesta de la Paloma.

Kevin is officially on his way in two days, fiestas in Acalà de Henares, and I expect full mayhem to ensue....

If you want to join in the fun... you can hide in Kev's luggage.

-Lo

"Live as if you'll die tomorrow, Learn as if you'll live forever." -Ghandi

Camping, now in Spanish!!

The second round of smallish Spaniards have come and went. Its very strange to look out into a group of people, expecting to see familiar faces, only to have your mind tricked... I see all the same bodies, and shadows. Hear the same familiar voices, and pitter patter of 10 year old feet, but the faces have changed... They have transformed into different smiling faces yearning for knowledge and acceptance...The experiences that you have with the kids is great, although short, and leaves great lasting impressions.

Alberto with his prize horseshoe!

Other experiences besides waking up, singing, teaching, playing, reprimanding, picking up, feeding, footballing, running, and putting to bed the kids has been Ivan. Ivan is probably the most kind and interesting Spaniard, if not human, I have met thus far. Ivan is the Spanish farmhand who takes care of maintenance at Esgaravita and more importantly, the horses. He has joined me and my English teachers here at the farmhouse for BBQ's and drinking on many occassions. (He doesn't drink alcohol, but he gets wasted on Coca-Cola, it really hillarious, its a site to see) He takes care of the farm I am at in addition to a very large horse ranch about 15mins away. This past Sunday he took me, Sara, Camilla, and Pepper to the epica (equestrian center) to get some horseriding in.

Ivan making out with the farm burro, Ramoncito

Suffice it to say, I haven't rode a horse, or anything that resembles a horse(other than my motorcycle, which is very different I've learned) since an awesome Grand Canyon trip when I was approx 12 or 13... Ask my Dad, It was one of those trips that you remember forever.

So I'm sitting on a horse. We're walking along, checking out the Spanish countryside, crossed a small creek, loving life. We start to trot, going good, I can handle it. Pepper's horse, Baraka, is one of the wildest horses on the ranch and doesn't really want to do anything but run. He starts to run... that means we all start to run. Pepper and Sara run off at rapid speeds. I lose site of them as they run full speed into some trees... Of course my horse, Mysterio, follows going pretty fast, at least for me... the trees speed by me... Sara gets hit in the face with a branch, knocking off her glasses and cutting her on the forehead. I see a 15 foot steep embankment to the road. One would think the horse would go up slowly, but he's obviously done this before and hits the hill headstrong. I lean forward, hug Mysterio's neck and close my eyes... Effing crazy horse. We all end up on the road. Looking at each other, wondering what just happened. We headed back to the epica for some beers and to relax. A great Sunday of riding thanks to Ivan. Friday he is throwing a BBQ at the ranch for a birthday and to say good-bye to some teachers leaving for bigger and better places.
Me and a horse... just relaxing...

Camp is winding down and I'm starting to look forward to my life after camp. Heading back to Madrid, and starting to find more work, and plan some travel. Updates to come.

If you around, and in town, let me know, and we'll get down..... brown clown....

-Lo

"Its not the experience you have, but the people you experience it with..." Pepper Walkup the Baraka tamer

Red Hot Spanish Summer...

Welcome back to the Angeloco Spanish Hour... Grab some popcorn...

¨Lo¨ entering one of the many workshops...

The tornado of a week has flown by leaving a warpath ingrained in my psyche of life at camp located in Alcala de Hernares.... La Esgaravita.. All the cliches are true... Everything from 'Ernest Goes to Camp' to 'Red Hot American Summer' can or has happened. Our oldest campers are about 14 years old so we don't get some of the craziest camp pranks available, but it is still non-stop coas- (choas in espanol)...

Yesterday all the campers got in a ton of trouble for taking all of their canteens and having a water fight all throughout the bunks... I found it quite entertaining, but the monitors did not... On top of being an English teacher at camp, I am also a semi-camp counselor helping to organize all the activities these 100 kids do... So yesterday we went to a pantano (small lake) for rowboating, archery, and wall climbing. A good and exhausting day all around.

Tons of camp games such as 'Angels & Demons' and 'Capture the Flag' are played often. Camp romances (twelve year olds holding hands) and rumours are prevalent. I am in charge of the bi-weekly sports outing to the community soccer fields where huge 'partidos' (matches) ensue and a quick dip in the pool afterward. And of course, the big 'buzon' (mailbox) where everyone can have their letters sent to their friends and read aloud to the whole camp... Good times.

The Americans showing the Spainards what a Slip ´n´Slide is...

My class consists of eleven 8-9 year old spanish children who are so fun and cool to hang out with... I've receive several drawings on the white board from the girls, and the boys like to bug the girls while they are doing it. I'm very happy with the group of kids I have to teach and hopefully some of the concepts and vocab sticks... But, I also understand I only have two weeks to teach something in an ever changing camp environment. At the end of the day, the kids are here to have fun during their summer, and keep their english levels consistent with constant usage in social situations... Its a blast.

I never went to summer camp, but now I'm catching up for lost time.... The food is very 'campy'.... As in mass produced... and just tasty enough to be called food.. Sometime the lunch ladies (They serve all meals, but its just easier to call them that) surprise you and know how to make a really good spanish dish in mass quantities. My fellow teachers and monitors are fun to hang around and we work well together... Sometimes you need to just hang out with a couple of people your own age and have a nice cold one after dealing with spanish brats all day... So its good to have them around...

Some of my best campers... throwing up the hangloose sign... since thats all i do all the time...

Fourth of July went off without a hitch... I brought a little piece of the red, white,and blue to camp... We had a true American BBQ complete with burgers, dogs, and Bud. A six pack of longnecks costs an arm and a leg but the nostalgia was worth it...

All is going well. Its hard not to be going well when my biggest responsiblity is to entertain 8-12 years olds in english... sometimes they bug.... but come on... its camp...

Kevin just booked his flight to Madrid... just another brave soul taking up my offer to enjoy the spanish lifestyle.... more to come

"We're not superstitious, We're Catholic" -Katrina explaining the difference between superstition and catholicism.....