Everything but Clorox

About two months before I moved to Spain I started thinking: "What will I need there?"

I ended up buying all sorts of medicines, different personal hygiene products, just in case I could not find these out in Spain. Socks, pants, shirts, the basics.

I bought all these things, but as it turns out, there was one thing nobody told me to bring: Clorox Bleach. Once I get a job here it's the first thing I'm ordering and shipping from the U.S., a box of Clorox with bleach spray.

It's not that I don't know what to look for here. Bleach is called "Lejia" in Spanish. The problem is, barely any products contain bleach. You can't buy a bottle of bleach and you surely can't find a spray bottle with bleach. The best you can do is an occasional toilet bowl cleaner with bleach in it. That isn't really all that practical for kitchens or general purpose cleaning. The products they do have here, leave a lot to be desired in terms of cleaning ability and deodorizer.

It likely has to do with EU regulations and their equivalent of EPA standards. It also seems that Europeans are not all that obsessed with all these cleaning agents the way Americans are. Even the largest supermarkets only carry a very small section worth of cleaning products.

So what I want for christmas is Clorox Bleach.

First Few Days in Spain (Con Fotos!)

I am finally in Spain! Steve and I settled down, went to IKEA, got me a phone number, toured Madrid and bought a lot of good food.

On the subject of food: it is remarkably cheap. A bottle of wine often sells for 1 Euro to up to 3 Euro. For more specialty imported wine such as an Italian Moscato it can cost up to 6 Euro! Alcohol in general is cheap, some of the American brands such as Bacardi, Bailey's or Bombay go for half or more off than their American counterparts. As Steve pointed out, olive oil goes for 2E per Liter, fresh vegetables and fresh seafood or poultry is low in cost too. It is difficult to go to a grocery store and spend more than 25E on a visit and be able to carry everything you buy back home.

As a city overall Madrid is clean. Traffic flows well as long as cars don't stall in the middle of a major thoroughfare because the driver is only used to using a Japanese manual shift stick and can't form a mental model of a new French shift stick. At that point you may get a honk, but they're just as likely to come out and ask if they can help.

This brings me to the third point which is that Spaniards are incredibly nice and polite. Genuinely so too. In all of my interactions with people here they have been patient and understanding as I stumble my way through Spanish and end up resorting to Steve's iPhone and it's translate application, only to find that the internet is not accessible. Just as often we find ourselves googling a photo of what we are looking for because we don't know a Spanish word for a vegetable such as a pumpkin. Or, the word we have may be a Mexican-Spanish word and Spaniard-Spanish speakers have no idea what you are talking about.

Steve is going back to work tomorrow. It will be a long 11 hours without him. However, as it turns out, my professor wants me to defend my thesis no later than December 18th so I will be making a trip across the pond once again in a couple of months for a day or two.

This is our street:

A Spanish Jorge Washington:

More photos on our Picasa page:

http://picasaweb.google.com/sanels/SteveAndSanelInMadrid?authkey=Gv1sRgCNPHgfa8osu4Nw#

I have internet, and health!

This is a short post to simply apologize.  I haven't had internet at home, and now that work is picking up, I don't have time to, and feel guilty, writing blog posts at work.  Additionally, I got the plague recently and haven't felt human until about today.  My advisor was actually shocked it took me this long to get sick, and fully expects me to get sick plenty more times over the next few months as my body gets used to all the bacteria in Europe that a European would have developed immunities to at birth.

Long story short, I got my internet modem today.  I will set it up tonight, and then I will be able to finally start updating this blog regularly.  Hope I haven't lost too many of you!

Me amo España

Crazy night last night. When I got home I needed to rest. This was the first opportunity I had to just rest in my new apartment. All week I had gotten home late from class, so I just ate and went to sleep. So, I took off my work pants and work shirt and put on a comfortable t-shirt and pajama shorts. I relaxed for a while and at one point took out the trash. I made sure to grab my keys when I did this so I wouldn't get locked out. Eventually I decided it was time to go to the super market to buy some things I needed for the apartment and some food for dinner. I put my work pants back on and headed out. Just as I was closing my door, it began to occur to me that I don't have my keys in these pants anymore. However, by the time the thought finished forming, I had already closed the door and this door locks itself!  Hence began a rather interesting evening.

Directly across from my flat is a bar. A rule of thumb I've learned in Spain is that the younger the person (down to a lower threshold of about 17) the more likely their English is good. I see two girls sitting at a table outside the bar that are clearly in their young twenties, so I begin to approach them. A few side notes: on the way home from work yesterday I bought a Spanish SIM card for my phone, though I had not used it yet, and was not sure it had minutes on it; my iPhone stores my recent emails from gmail, of which one is an email with the number for my landlady's husband because I recently needed to meet him so he could fill out a form for my NIE application; my landlady and her husband, and their children, only speak Spanish. With all these facts, my plan was to find someone who could speak Spanish and English so they could call my landlady's husband (assuming my brand new SIM card worked) and translate my problem to him from English to Spanish. As I approached the girls, I noticed they're speaking German and had suitcases with them. I realized they might be in worse shape than me with the two languages, but I decide to continue with the plan anyways.

As is the theme of this story, I am a lucky person. One of these girls is studying to become an English and Spanish teacher in Germany. She has her oral exam in Spanish in a month, and has decided to visit Spain again (she had taught English and Spanish here last year for an internship) to brush up on her Spanish before the exam. She gladly calls my landlady's husband. Unfortunately, he tells her that he's not sure if they have a key for my flat, and that he'll call her back. The girls are at the bar, with their suitcases, because the friend they're staying with is, at this point, two hours late, so they've been drinking beer near her flat (she's apparently a neighbor of mine) until she gets back. They're in no rush and invite me to have a beer with them while we wait for the call so they can help translate again. We had a good conversation in which I learned about the reason for their travels to Spain and that the other girl is just along for the ride with her aspiring-teacher friend because she had never been to Spain before. She is studying music management in Amsterdam.

When I received the call back, Cathrin (the German, language guru) talks to my landlady who explains to her that they live 60km outside Madrid, and will come let me in, but would prefer I try breaking in first. She suggests using a credit card. This is something I have tried before at the frat with little luck (this is another funny story in which I was locked out of my room after a shower and had to get into my room, and also had no clothes, but this blog is about Spain, so I won't go into more detail about that story here), so I'm not optimistic to day the least. I ask Cathrin how to say "I've lost my keys," so I can ask a neighbor in my building to buzz me in, and they go to their friend's flat who had arrived there while we were waiting for my call. We exchange numbers so I can call them if I have any more problems, and we say good bye after I thank them tremendously.

A neighbor let me into the building and I tried everything I had in my pockets to open the door, but it did not work. It didn't help that the door has one of those barriers to prevent such break-ins, but at least I feel safer about my apartment!  I formulated a new plan to hire a locksmith, and headed to the hardware store a couple buildings up the street to ask the guy in there if he is a locksmith, or knows where one is. He is not, and told me I had to go three streets over to find one (I think; he only speaks Spanish). I begin to walk over there, but on the third street over, which had a different name than what he told me, I saw nothing that looked like a locksmith.

Wandering around trying to find some nice looking people to ask some questions, I found some kids hanging out drinking beers and asked them if they knew where the "man of keys" was. One of them figured out what I meant and showed me a sticker on a nearby electrical box with a phone number to call. Turns out these stickers are everywhere, including about a half dozen on a post outside my door, but I wouldn't have known because I didn't know the word for locksmith, which was what these stickers advertised. I called the number and as I began to butcher Spanish, one of the kids beckoned me to give him my phone, and then proceeded to explain my situation more fluently to the locksmith. The locksmith said he'd call back in a minute so I waited with the guys and they asked me some basic question in Spanish, like "where are you from" and "are you in Spain on vacation".  The locksmith called back and my new friend negotiated with him. The locksmith wanted 80€ for the service, but I only had 70€, and 5€ in change. The locksmith accepted the job for 75€ and promised to arrive in 15 minutes.

The guy who was talking on the phone for me had to go, but the other two guys went to my apartment building with me to wait for the locksmith. When we got there I wrote a text to my landlady (writing and reading Spanish is easier than talking and understanding the quick responses), telling her that I was going to use a locksmith, so she would know everything worked out. She promptly called me back and explained to me that locksmiths are way too expensive and that she would send her son to let me in. I tried to tell her, in broken Spanish, that I felt bad that she lived 60km from me, and that it wasn't a problem for me to pay for the locksmith because it was my mistake. Amazingly, she understood me, and said that the 60km was not a problem and that she'd rather let me in than let me pay for a locksmith. She then began to say other things I did not understand, so I passed the phone to one of my new friends so he could talk with her. After the call, he explained to me that her son would arrive at 9:30pm on a motorcycle and that I should wait for him at the front door.

It was 8:00pm now and I felt bad that these kids had dropped whatever they had planned to come wait for a locksmith with me, and that it turned out I didn't need a locksmith. To show my thanks I offered to buy them each a beer. They agreed but said they had plans soon. We went to the bar across the street, and I ordered three beers. One of the kids also bought himself a sandwich. It was of something I had never seen, and so he let me try it. It was tasty and the bar owner told me it was "black pudding", I think. We all ended up talking for a while. They spoke a little English, so between my Spanish and their collective English we could understand each other. I found out that one is in school to become a cook and the other to become a code monkey. They're both 19, and were surprised to learn I was 25. They thought I was no older than 22. We talked about everything from sports to culture to Sanel. They were nice and ended up hanging out with me through two beers and a traditional Spanish dish made at the bar called Oreja. Cathrin also called while I was at the bar to make sure everything was alright, and I told her it was. We then also made plans to try and find each other at Noche en Blanco, which is a yearly festival in Madrid where all the museums are free to everyone.  It happens tonight and I'm already going with a friend of Sanel's.

At 9:00 the two guys had to leave to meet up with their friends. At that point I went to sit on the sidewalk in front of my building to wait for my landlady's son. About five minutes later an elderly couple that apparently lives in my building arrived home, but started asking me questions. I wasn't entirely sure what they were saying, but I gathered they wanted to know if I lived here and what I was doing sitting on the sidewalk. Just as I started trying to answer, a lady who (in her worlds) "can't speak much English but loves languages and learned a little English from her son" walked by and then helped me explain my story to the elderly couple. They offered to let me into the building, but I explained to them (through the language entusiast) that I needed to wait for my friend (don't know the word for landlord and the nice lady didn't know that word in English) to come bring me the keys to my flat. The elderly couple went inside and I then talked to the language enthusiast for a few minutes, which was nice.

To no longer appear homeless, I decided to wait in the bar for the remaining twenty minutes. There these two older guys talked to me for a while and we actually managed to have a full conversation in Spanish, thanks to their unyielding patience. When my landlady's son showed up I paid and left rather quickly. The son was really nice and in surprisingly good mood given the circumstance of his trip to Madrid. Once inside my apartment I grabbed my keys and thanked the son. I planned to go to bed, but I decided I wanted to keep talking with the guys in the bar and get to say good bye properly rather than so hastily. I returned to the bar holding out my keys and was welcomed with cheers from my friends and the lady who owns the bar. Perhaps most enthusiastically from the bar owner because she had watched my story from the very beginning and seen the whole progression. The older guys bought me a drink and we talked some more. After twenty minutes or so I was exhausted and finally headed home. It had been a long and amazing night, and I went to bed with a smile on my face thinking of how awesome and helpful everyone I met that night had been. This story certainly speaks as a good omen for the coming years in Europe!

I can has apartment?

It's been a while since I last posted, so there's some catchup to do, but I want to start by telling today's story.  I have been trying to get an apartment all week, and have kept running into either apartments being given away already (such as the one from the previous post), apartments that are crappy or in crappy neighborhoods, or land lords that want to scam me by making me pay interest to them on a large sum of cash every month (this is actually a popular practice in Madrid among some landlords called  a bank guarantee, that my coworkers told me to avoid like the plague).  I finally found an awesome place, and was waiting until Saturday for them to decide which of the dozen people interested in the apartment would get it.  Unfortunately, they did not pick me.

This left me rather depressed and totally destroyed my motivation to put up with the hostel any longer.  I haven't had a good night's sleep in ten days because of the noise, and there is so much cigarette smoke that I was beginning to get permanently nauseous.  I was able to put up with this by convincing myself that it was always for "just one more day," but the news about the apartment devastated my willpower.  Sanel was concerned about me and told me to go to a hotel for a little while.  So, this morning I came to a hotel and signed up for two nights.  It was like a breath of fresh air, literally and figuratively.

The other thing I did on Saturday was send out about twenty e-mails to various apartments that looked decent in hopes of finding one soon.  Saturday night I got a response from one of the landlords, and promptly told him that I would like to see the apartment.  He agreed to let me see this apartment today at 6pm.  One thing that should be noted is that until now Ines has done all of the talking with landlords.  My Spanish is certainly not good enough for a telephone call.  So, I tried to contact these landlords by e-mail and used Google Translate to write the first e-mail, and then the subsequent e-mails to this landlord.  When I asked him a few e-mails later if his brother (who would be showing me the apartment) spoke any English, his response was (in Spanish), "I don't think English will be a problem because your Castilian is great."  I tried to tell him that I can write fine Spanish while I have the internet, but that I am awful at speaking it, but this did not concern him, and somehow that issue was brushed under the rug.  So, I went to see the apartment today after writing about a dozen phrases down in my iPhone and hoping they would be patient with me.  Fortunately, the brother's wife spoke great English and was willing to speak in it with me.

Another fortunate thing is that the apartment was amazing.  It is a beautiful two-bedroom flat with A/C, a brand new kitchen / bathroom, and a big master bedroom.  It's one of the cheapest rent's I've found, and it's in a beautiful quiet neighborhood within a short walk to all the stores I will need on a day-to-day basis.  The apartment is no more than a two minute walk from the metro station, and a bus stop that goes directly to my work.  Most importantly, it's not being sought by anyone else right now, so I was able to ask for it without being put on a waiting list and having my heart broken again.  I sign the contract tomorrow!!  Here are some pictures of my 750 euro/month (which do not do it justice):

Actually the internet is uber slow in my hotel, so I will just give you all the link rather than repost all of them because I did not take my own this time...

http://www.idealista.com/pagina/inmueble-fotos;jsessionid=6B65DA5F59998E68F0E00F235C459D2F.acaps5?itemOrder=1&codigoinmueble=VW0000002342644

In other news:

Last Sunday I tried to find my University as per my mom's recommendation.  This was a very good recommendation because while Google Maps told me it was in the center of Madrid, when I got there there was no University.  I then went to a Starbucks and used their internet to go to the University's webpage, only to find that in fact the University is about a forty minute train ride outside the city. When I got there I found a locked security gate and no one answered, probably because everything here shuts down on Sundays, and this was a Sunday before school started.  Google Maps told me there was another entrance, which was the main entrance for the entire school, so I tried to go that way.  The "road" Google took me down at one point disappeared under a ten-foot high pile of dirt that stretched down the road for about 100 meters, I decided I would keep going to the entrance anyways rather than turn around.  I was soon stopped by a security guard that said lots of things in Spanish I do not know, but his pointing made me realize he wanted me to go away, and so I did.

The rest of the week was spent getting set up at work and looking for apartments.  I saw about ten throughout the week, but none other than the heart-breakers really impressed me.  I also made an appointment to get my NIE card this Tuesday, which I'm excited about because I can't get a phone contract or a real bank account until I have it.  So far I'm really enjoying work and my coworkers are incredibly nice and sociable.  I'm looking forward to working here for the next four years with all of them.

Food

I made my first meal in Spain just now.  It was so tasty.  The meat here is so good and only 1,76 euro per pound, and the olive oil was also remarkably cheap ( <2 euro).  In fact everything is cheap.  For only 13,50 euro I was able to buy:

• an onion
• two small jars of tomato sauce
• 1 liter of olive oil
• four red peppers
• 400 grams of ground beef
• a bag of pasta
• 40 ziplock bags
• a shopping bag
• cashews (i needed them for the Tupperware container they were in)

It was pretty awesome.

Quick Update

Here's a quick addendum to yesterday's post.  I realized later that I should have included some photos of my hostel, and the area around it.  Nothing has really happened today.  I have the beginnings of a cold, so I'm trying to fight it off.  I successfully got Claritin D at the farmacia without using English, and I unsuccessfully tried to get my monthly metro pass when I found out that you need a photo of yourself for the pass.  Also, the only place I found to get a photo of myself is closed today.  O well.  Other than that I've been lazy, trying to relearn some Spanish phrases I wish I remembered from high school when I've been talking to people, and I took the pictures of the surrounding area.

These pictures are of my room.  There are seven beds, and all of them were filled last night.  My bed is the one with the two huge black backpacks blocking my way into it.  Fortunately, I'm next to the window because if it weren't for the occasional cool breeze, I would have died from heat last night.

Above you can see the common room.  It's about twice as big as what's in the photo, but I didn't bother taking another shot because the other wall has the exact same couch, and there's nothing else to see.  It's an incredibly comfortable place to use my laptop and charge various electronics.  There's also a TV with a DVD player and there are a bunch of DVDs with Spanish dubbing or subtitles for anyone to watch for free.

This next set is of the kitchen.  It's fully functional with a fridge and all the pots, pans, plates, and silverware you would want.  I'm thinking of making myself dinner tonight.  It would be fun.  This is also another place I use my laptop and charge things.

These doors are for the hostel and the building containing the hostel, respectively.  To an American, the outside door might seem trashy, but this is actually a relatively small amount of graffiti for Madrid.  All the walls and doors in the city are covered in it.  It would be more shocking to see a door that was entirely graffiti-free, unless it was brand new that day.

This tiny elevator in the hostel's building can barely fit two people in it, but it was a life savior when I arrived with all my luggage.  I haven't used it since because the hostel is only on the third floor (or what is the second floor in Spain; ground floor is 0, and anything below ground is -1,-2, etc).  However, the apartment that I posted pictures of yesterday also has one of these elevators, which is another plus because that apartment is on the fourth floor (third floor), and it would suck to carry food, or furnishings, up those stairs.

This is Chueca Plaza. Chueca is the burrow that my hostel is in.  That first picture is the "street" I didn't think was a street, that made me misread my map and get lost on the way to the hostel.  It's a beautiful plaza with a bunch of stores and restaurants.

I swear I didn't know when I booked the hostel, but Chueca is the gay district of Madrid.  This is a bar/cafe in Chueca Plaza that looked a lot nicer when it was open last night.  This was taken during siesta on Saturday, so there's people sleeping where there used to be tables and chairs. There are rainbows, everywhere around here ...

... even the tapas bars are gay.  There's more rainbows in this small district than in Provincetown or San Francisco's Castro District.  Seriously, I've been to both.

There are some beautiful and amazing places here in Madrid.  I'm sure Sanel and I are going to love it here.