Flat out like a lizard drinking....

Another birthday has come and past... Now we try to recollect what actually happened and possible find an explanation why our flat looks like it went thru a tornado with a B.A.C. of  .23....

El Palacio Real taken down the street from El Gran Salon...

To start the night Alex, Dave, and I head toward Madrid's center to take a walk, catch some great sites of our illustrious city, and grab some grub.  The autumn air was crisp and the people were out in full force.  Covered up and enjoying the increasing chill of the season.  I now realize how effing hot summer actually was here and how much I miss a nice cool breeze.  Walk by the Palace, stroll by the Arch at Principe Pio, and a tromp down Gran Via and we find ourselves in the city centre at Sol.  The city is bustling per usual on a Saturday night, each couple and group of friends with their own plans for an exciting fall evening.  At this point I realize how much I don't really know about the Spanish and their culture.

Principe Pio at night.

I've been here for six months now and still feel that around every corner I turn I see a completely different side of Spain and the mix of culture it provides.  From the ornery Spanish doorman who permits me entry into the apartment building he guards, against his better judgment, to the bright eyed South American toddler, probably Colombian maybe Venezuelan, who rides the metro fidgeting and leaning against his dad wondering how much longer this ride will be. Bright eyes and restless hands moving, flitting, without rest.

Walking thru the city, the sites call out to you and demand attention.  One must ignore their beauty and reverence if one wants to actually arrive to desired destination. We run a couple of errands, party prep, and grab a quick bday dinner and an overpriced and mediocre buffet.  What the restaurant lacks in quality, it makes up for in seconds, thirds, and fourths.  We leave the center, head back to the flat and await our birthday celebrants.

El Gran Salon fills quickly and liters empty even more so.  Approx. 25 friends from his school and around Madrid come to give him a Birthday shout out.  Italians make German jokes, Germans make American puns, and Aussies look like wombats...  Hours of palavering (read The Dark Tower) and the party wanes down.  We figured that Alex's absence a few hours into the party was caused by him receiving a special present from a lady friend.  We also realized that once everyone had left the party he was probably just passed the eff out.  We pounded on his door and received no reply.  Bird Law dictates that if one is busy with intimate agendas, one replies to a strong poundings on ones door.  (Watch "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia") With no reply, we decide to invade to find him more than soundly sleeping.  Dave and I make a non-verbal decision and launch ourselves on top of him giving him a rude awakening and administering more alcohol as medicine.  He quickly regains his bearings and we continue his celebration.

With only 6 or so of us remaining, we break out the birthday cake and give him a proper 'Happy Birthday' with matchstick birthday candles and all.

Alex ready to slice his cake as well as party goers...

A good birthday for all of us here at El Gran Salon and we look toward Thursday for our next gathering for Thanksgiving. (Which has already happened as I write this, currently digesting that triptophan laced meat)  Updates on Turkey day to come.  November has been a non-stop month, but Madrid isn't such a good place for sleep anyway, FYI for any of you planning on visiting.  We will see you next time, loyal reader, with full bellies and surrounded by friends and family.  Be Thankful.

-AAA

"Are you allowed to drink Absinthe with dinner?...."
"I didn't think there were rules here..."
-Lo & Wombat

Cause and Effect.

Autumn Art Graffiti captured by the Guss.

 As the temperature drops here in the center of the Iberian peninsula several changes take place, as in the rest of the Northern Hemisphere.  The autumn clothes make their debut and the scarfs seem to accent the spanish eyes quite perfectly.  Hazel-blues and Grey-greens stand out strongly against overcast sunsets. Botellons (large gathering of young drinking revelers) are harder to find and the crowds move indoors toward smoky dim lit bars and lounges.  Film festivals replace the outdoor music variety.

We here at  El Gran Salon have also shifted gears to find some more cultural related activities (besides eating chorizo and indulging in Mahou).

Jam Session at the lounge "El Plaza"

The latest: Jazz. Throw on your best M. Davis album and come inside, speak easy.  The Jazz scene here in Madrid is much like any other big international city I.E.: Chicago, New York...... but not the Utah variety.  A couple different Jazz fests have filled our auditory palettes with such jazz varieties as Lounge with accompanying Sax and Trumpet, Piano Jazz with added jazz flute (a la Ron Burgandy), and Latin Jazz infused with the rhythmic bongo drums (my favorite).

THE David Guss, El Ingeniero, Angeloco, and Wombat... taking in a night of Jazz.

It is peculiar and even refreshing to see the Spaniards, usually so entrenched in their own particular culture that one could only think of them as Spanish, take in something that is so unrelated and different.  The jazz singers melodic voice, although in English, traverses language and culture giving all listeners a sway that seems inherent in the human genome.  Smoke fills the small, intimate setting.  Whispers fills in the ambient noise, vibrato smooths and fades out mental chatter, and one can only sit back, slouch slightly in the lounge chair provided, and relax.  

Happy Birthday to Alex, tonight is another gathering of linked souls to celebrate the 23rd anniversary of the crazy German's birth.  Bring on the Green Fairy...
-Angelo A. Austin


"Don't play what's there, play whats not there"
-Miles Davis

H,B,S, & TOS.... part 2.

The south of Madrid at Sunset... Estadio Teresa Rivero

 Survival. The most primal of instincts.

Madrid. The most primal of foes.  Day in day out, it is awaiting you.  Menacing carniceros (butchers) offering you delicious meats. Angel faced Panaderas offering sweet nothings that make the eyes roll in enjoyment.  Jovial Meseros pouring amber goodness into copas grandes from behind their elegant oak barras.  And I am stuck here.  In the midst of the devils delights.  Donkey Island ain't got nothing on Madrid.  Now if I believed that such evils were out to get me in ill will, I would be flagellating myself more often than Ellen Degeneres dances in an ill-worn pant suit.  But I don't, so I just take it all in like Monstro the Whale.  One Jimminy Cricket at a time.

After the Russians took off back to Bulgaria (where they shake their head for 'yes', and nod for 'no') the flat headed right back into another week of crazy (like there is a different type of week).El Gran Salon went thru the normal week motions: learning English to kids and Adults (Dave and Angelo-->teachers), going to class to catch up on some sleep (Valerie--->Engineering Student), or just not going to class and learning more than usual (Alex---> Econ Student) The weekend speeds up on you with some big plans.  Number one, My first Spanish futbol match.  "Vamos Rayos!!"

Estadio Teresa Rivero sitting next to apartment buildings and tiendas.


 My friend Robin, previously from Camp Esgaravita... if you're keeping up... invited me to see a Rayos Vallecanos match in the south of Madrid.  We head up from the metro mouth which puts up about 10meters from the stadium entrance.  The stadium sits directly in the middle of a neighborhood, much like the famed Wrigley Field in Wrigley-ville.  Robin tells me a little history of the club.  Apparently, this club is situated in a more liberal part of town and during Franco's reign it was a place where the sentiment in the air was less than accommodating to the dictator.  One form of protest comes in the form of sport.  The Rayo Vallecanos have been a voice for the anti-fascist movement for years and the setting doesn't seem like it is changing soon.  The anti-fascist Madrid punk band, Ska-P, has even named a couple songs after the group of futbollers.  Look it up.

Recap:
Rayos Vallecanos laid a beat down on the visiting Real Murcia.  A two-nil final with Rayo striking early in the first 15' and again in the 90' just to cap off a dominating night.  The futbol hardly crossed the midfield stripe into Rayo territory.  I doubt if Real had more than 3 shots on goal.  Now that we know about the actual match, lets talk about the best spectacle of the match: The Hooligans.

 No one forgot their banner...Why?

Now I'm using this term loosely.  Its more like the superfan section.  Comparable to the student section at an college football match, except bigger, louder, rowdier, and soooo much more Spanish.  The flags they bring are not pennants.  They are FLAGS.  Ten foot PVC pipe draped flags.  The strong-but flexible pipe allows the holder to spin the flag wildly as they add their voice to the constant raucous.  Are there complaints to"put the flag down your blocking my view"... ha... that my get you a Spanish boot to the midsection... but that would never happen because you are already 3 liters deep and waving your own ridiculously huge Pipe-Flag.  

Because no one forgets their banner...

The chants are not chants, but Battle-Cries involving the entire 20,000 spectator crowd, none of whom are here to support the visitors.  I look around to see my Spanish neighbors and as they yell back at the 'call and response' the superfan section has started, I can see that they have been coming here week in and week out for the better part of their lives and I wouldn't find it hard to believe that each one of them did their time down in the superfan pit. 

At one point the superfan area splits in two sections, right down the middle.  The crowd is now completely in the aisles and each side is yelling and screaming at the other.  The Flags are then thrown into the middle, where there is now empty bleachers.  After all the flags pile in the middle, a battle-cry match ensues, seconds later... the two sections charge each other in Braveheart fashion screaming and yelling in a thrashing mosh pit.  The stakes, who brings the flags to the next match, I am assuming.  A minute of battle and the crowd is back to its previous state of cheering and hooliganing...  No real harm done as they are all on the same team, but it proves the kind of mentality these fans are in as compared to their American counterpart.  Like comparing Christian Bale's Batman to Adam West's...

Birthday song time

After the great match, Robin and I head back to the flat where I start to whip up some real Mexican Chicken Tacos, with real spice... (Cue Gabe, Why Not?) for Dave's Big B-day.  The flat starts to fill up with friends and family ( who are one and the same here as an Ex-Pat).  And to spice it up, throw in two French gals, a Romanian damsel, a Norwegian chick, and a Swiss maiden. Bake for 20-25 minutes and let cool. Liters are passed around as the Tacos are devoured.  Laughs, Stories, and Music flow thru the flat.  The lights shut off and votive candles are placed on top of the banana bread which is used as cake.  We all have a raucous night and good times were had by all until eyes fell black or until the metro opens at 6.

We relax for a few days, but there is no rest for the weary.  Alex's B-day is coming up in two days.  And if you don't know the routine by now, you're just not paying attention.  More to come... keep coming back for more fun.

The day after

-Angelo A. Austin

"I may have said the same thing before... But my explanation, I am sure, will always be different."
-Oscar Wilde

Halloweens, Birthdays, Sausages, Football, and the occasional Surfer...pt. 1

What makes Halloween so interesting here in Spain is that it is a very new concept.  I'm assuming that Franco, Spain's former dictator, was not too keen on allowing the Pagan American tradition to invade his borders with his very strong Catholic views. I however have the privilege of working closely with children between ages 9-12 and it is very clear that they don't have the same grasp on the holiday as their American counterparts.  I of course gave them  pointers and hints on the process. A run down on why you take a pillowcase out with you to trick-or-treat and the best way to destroy your neighbors jack-o-laterns were key categories.  One refreshing thing about Halloween being so new and interesting to the Spanish is that they have not evolved (more like digressed) into seeing who can be the slutty-est or who can make the best interpretation of the last episode of SNL. Its terror, scary, and gory... the way it was meant to be... Give them 10 more years and I'm sure they will be finding the shortest skirts and the best dreadlock wig but for now, its nice to a good zombie walking around.  Which takes me back to the horse ranch at Alcala once again....

As I said in the previous post, my good friend Ivan was planning a Halloween bash and he is not one to disappoint.  I arrived with Alex and Dave to the ranch around 11pm surrounded by some good looking Ghouls 'n Ghosts in full gore and regalia. (yes, that game effing scared me really bad when I was 8 or whenever nintendo came out with it... it was the theme song...I'm sure my brother Phil remembers).  A couple drinks into the party an urgent Ivan comes up to me and asks me if I can don a zombie mask, head out into the graveyard and scare children...... "Claro"

The Chicken King, ZombieDave, and 400yearold death queen... you know, taken the metro.

What I don't know is how much effort was spent putting this Haunted Ranch Walk together. It started of with a "Ring" like scene with creepy girl climbing out the well clawing at you, thru to darkened horse stables where assylum twin girls awaited with high pitched moans, into the horse arena turned graveyard where I waited with pick, shovel, and Zombie faced , into a SAW V warehouse where the butcher was waiting with chain saw revving.  With Zombie-Michael Jackson as their tour guide, the ranch walk was a scary delight.  About half way thru the night, a real headless horseman screamed thru the camp, tromping so close to party goers to cover them with dust as he stampeded by.  All the chilling senses you want grazed and shocked during this one special night of the year were perfectly tingled and hacked.

After the terror came the party.  Drinks and dancing flowed like candy corn.  Zombie-Michael Jackson paid his tribute to his former self and all attendees: Spanish, Foreigner, Adult and Child alike had a night that they may or may not remember.  Two huge thumbs up to Ivan and his crew for throwing the Halloween Bash that most party connoisseurs (as myself) dream of.

A few days to recover from the Halloween bash and the crew here at El Gran Salon are back at it again.  After a month long hiatus from the CouchSurfing world, we threw open our doors once again hosted some more of the most wonderful internationals you can find.  In addition to a couple of Bulgarian surfers (they weren't Bulgarian, but Russian, but we didn't know that until we met them, so we just decided they were Bulgarian), we also had the privilege of having Alex's Dad, Ralph, take in the whirlwind known as the  couch surfing world.  And Ralph brat (brought) sausage!  Homemade German Sausage!  They really are doing something different.  Because it was magnanimous.  Sure having a BBQ in November is a little late in the season, but delicious none the less.

Fast-Forward:-->Liters-->Malasaña-->Tapas-->Teach Bulgarians how to Shotgun Beers-->Bulgarians Falling off hand rails in Plaza Dos de Mayo-->Injured Backs-->Jager-------->Scene.

Yet another couple days of recovery, a few English classes learned and we come upon THE David Guss' big B-day. But before we ensue into that night of thrills, spills, and automobiles.... we shall take a break.  Also in the next edition of Angeloco on the Road: my first European football match.... the crowd goes normal.

-Lo

"Its the big button on every camera on the planet"
-Angeloco explaining how to function the whiteman's soul-catcher....

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