Saturday…The most exciting part of the day was the evening, when I met up with Greg, an American I met at the activity Friday night, to go to the Prado Museum for the free hours. It was great! I remember learning about famous Spanish artists in my Spanish Civ class back in the day (thank you, Hrma Hoskisson!), and I finally got to see some of their works in person! For FREE! I saw Goya’s harsh but true rendition of Carlos IV’s family and depressing, tenebrous works from his dark period; I saw the Greco’s brightly colored depictions of Christ; and I saw the well-proportioned famous (and a personal favorite) Las Meninas by Velázquez. Yeah, I saw some other art, too, but we made sure to see those big artists.
Once we were kicked out for closing time, we walked around a bit more. We were going to see some Catalan statues on a nearby walkway, but those plans were derailed by the gay pride festivities. Seriously, the plaza-roundabout was FILLED with rainbows and men dancing in briefs and other such going on. The funny part is that I had only the night before heard that such a thing would go on this weekend, but it was a complete accident that that’s what I found upon exiting the metro on my way to such a refined, cultured place as the Prado. Such societal extremes…
On Sunday, I went to church with Teresa. Even though I’m in the heart of Spain, there are Latinos everywhere! Don’t get me wrong; I love Latinos! It’s just that I came here, expecting to be surrounded by Spaniards and vosotros, but there are so many Latinos that I can keep using the seseo without the so-called “lisp” that is actually a “theta”. Church was no different: mostly Latinos, but with a smattering of Spaniards in the mix.
Back at the apartment after church, I ended up talking to my momma and baby sis until they had to get ready for church. After that, I took a nap. By the time I woke up, Teresa was just coming back from being out with a neighbor, Carmen, and another lady, Estela, came a little while later. Hah, it turns out that the other lady and Teresa are the exact two ladies one of my professors briefly told me about when he was helping me get set to jet with Madrid, and here I was, sitting with both of them! They knew him when he was a missionary. :) We ate arepas made with Ecuadorian cheese with a side of caffeine-free Coke (which I generally don't drink to avoid the caffeine), and sat there on the terrace for a good few hours. At times I didn’t know what to say, but once Estela came, everything was great. There are times I am content to just sit and soak it in, feeling competent because I can understand their language. And there are times, like moments that evening, when I was part of the conversation and felt super content at being welcomed into their world. I sat there, simply happy. One of the greatest moments of the night was when Estela was talking with me and was saying that she’s scared about meting Utah Mormons. I asked her if I scare her, and she answered, “No. But you’re different. You do realize that, right?” It touched me that she could tell, without even knowing me super well, that I love learning about other cultures and that I’m not one of those people who is very close-minded and ethnocentric. Gah, I’m not doing justice to her words, but it felt great to be recognized for not reinforcing the smug American stereotype. And it felt like she could see part of me for who I am, and showing it to me as though for the first time, or at least being another witness, confirming what I’ve thought before: I am different. And it feels great.
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