camaleón

i never really realized until today that this year has been a fun secret game of "what nationality do i look like to you?"

little by little i've gotten to talk with my neighbors and my favorite guesses from them include the following:

1) 92 year old grandpa from floor 5: alicantina. the man was convinced i had told him i was from alicante, his homeland. he was so proud... i didn't have the heart to reveal my true origins to him. plus i really enjoyed having a new pretend place of birth.

2) random boy from floor 3: spanish. "ufff it's hot," he says as he enters the elevator. "yeah, it's awful, but i have to enjoy it because i'm going home in 8 days to the cold," i admit as he exits the elevator (the trip from floors 1 to 3 is suprisingly short you know). "you're not from here??" he follows up with a "jodin!"

3) grandpa from floor 3: swedish. his wife, him & i took a stroll to the trash recepticles this evening to get rid of some unwanted bags of treasures when he admitted... he thought i was swedish.

4) grandpa's wife from floor 3: american. "where are you from?" she asks me. "near chicago," i tell her. "yeah, you can tell."

to everyone else... the safe guess is british.
"you just don't have the american vibe," says kevin.

i guess i like being a western-european chameleon... :)

air

my bedroom is a 98+° oven. i'm aware that can barely bake a brownie, but still it's got my white batter looking for a 9x13 inch pan.
the point of this heat intro is that i discovered a divine source of heat-repellent -aka air conditioning- in the islamic library yesterday...
and my last exam is tomorrow.

to think i've been jordin sparks-ing all this time with the islamic icebox a 15-minute venture away.

where was my sense a month ago?

caution

today i was just walking on the sidewalk minding my pedestrian business when suddenly... a van cut me off.
i was not aware that four-wheeled things are considered pedestrians, too.

huele a...

thunderstorrrrrrrrrrrrm !!!!
*click here for the audio-enhanced version of this blog*

it's been a long week of 32° stagnate city heat, so yesssssssss señor notus, bringer of the storms,

bring on the aguacero,
blow that brisa through my window,
bedazzle that sky with relámpago,
and blast that thunder crack all night long.

*__*

grumble

it is 1:59 am...

and the garbage trucks are playing their favorite nightly game of dinosaurs at war outside my window. (seriously, how else do you describe garbage collection at this hour?)

it is 2:04 am...

and a t-rex has called a cease-fire.

in other noise news :

• the birds battle it out with the walk signs at dawn. (the walk signs here either "chirp" until the little green midget turns red, or make you feel like you should be dodging turtles and looking for mario in the crosswalk.)
• hammerings resound from the remodeling above... below... & next to... my apartment before i'd actually like to be awake.
• the echoing clamor of recess filters pompously through my window from the elementary school next door.
• the vile pitch of a flute an old man on a bike uses to announce his arrival to the neighboring apartment building sounds most mornings. (i was under the impression that this crescendoing doodlee-doodlee-doo squawk was a cell phone alarm in the house until i stepped out early one morning and witnessed the matinee.)

fond of falling asleep to dinosaur war and waking up to squawk i am not. but it wouldn't surprise me if i found myself youtube-ing the sounds back in madison next year as some sort of twisted nostalgic comfort. ayyyyomá .

pimpin

on tuesdays and thursdays i scoot my wonderfully functioning feet 12 minutes southeastward to be buzzed into building 4 and assume the role of "profesora de ingles" for julia and leo. lately, leo's desired tuesday lesson has been translating the songs generated by the mating of linkin park & jay-z in 2004. jooope tio, i don't even understand that combination. what i've come to understand of this powercouple is something like:
"under the surface it's all H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A, fo'shizzle my nizzle unsed to dribble down in VA. yo. i've become so numb. uh. who do you know fresher than hov? pain, ouch, bleeding, depresssssion are some of my 99 problems... and a bitch aint one."
julia, of course, would rather just watch an episode of hannah montana or play me claire de lune on the recorder. but hands down, these two are the best of both worlds. my alotted teaching time is 90 minutes, but i often find myself still hanging out 90 minutes + 90 minutes later, helping julia with her homework, giving leo pointers on his breakdance moves (ha, what do i know?), eating dinner fam-fashion, or haciendo the miscellaneous. for example, i once found myself in the living room drinking piña coladas with bea and leopoldo (mom and dad) as they told me the history of how beapoldo came to be. the family has simply adopted me and given me a big allowance. i feel more like a big sister being paid to teach her siblings that it isn't really okay to speak with the shizzles and nizzles of jayzinkin park or the sweet niblits or dag-flabits of miss montana.
--
this thursday i went to julia and leo's elementary school to watch leo in a performance of la zarzuela. hmph, how to explain that? watch this... and then replace the actors with 10 year olds lip-synching to the same voices. heh, can't beat a 10 year old from which appears to be exiting voice of a 47-year village pimp.
although you should really watch this, to better understand what this looks like, here's a linkless- anti-extra-clicking explanation. the zarzuela is spanish musical theater originated in madrid during king felipe iv's reign in the 1600s that mixes opera and traditional dance. it is performed a lot during the festival san isidro, the party for the patron saint of madrid. yes, the madrileños took their saintly legend san isidro and turned him into a excuse for a giant fiesta. of course we should drink to the impoverished farm workers who gave food to the poor.
it is common to see madrileños, well ok mostly the niños for their school productions, puttering around madrid at this time dressed as chulos and chulapas, traditional folk costumes that are worn in the zarzuela.after the chulos and chulapitas zarzuela production at julia and leo's school, 17 of us ended up at VIPs for dinner (VIPs would be the equivalent of something like the dairy queen's and denny's classy child). in VIPS, an undercover thanksgiving presented itself to me as i had to choose between the "adult table" or the "kids table". well... easy. who had the crayons?

after dinner i exited VIPS into the adult world to meet 4 friends for a drink, in an irish bar, where the famous comedian enrique san francisco was also getting liquidly happy.
a-men madrid.

apparently...

...if you're about 6 years old and at recess in the park, it's quite okay to tree-water with your pants pulled down. i mean come on, your teacher ignoring you gives you the automatic pass-go, the grandmas giggling allow you the "i don't know any better" excuse, and even your cootied-girl classmate observes your act with a silently acceptant curiosity.

in spain, recess mola.

*dedicated to the non-fearing potty-trained man i passed on my way to school today.