Sticky

Just as the US faced the last batch of snow storms, the weather here in Madrid turned slightly spring-y. It’s enough to make a girl want to run in Retiro to combat the effects of wintry hibernations, Italian pasta and gelato, Dutch pancakes and pastries, and Iberian ham and vino. Unfortunately, the city lies under a nasty cloud of pollution at the moment. Last week as I attempted a short jog, I found myself unable to breathe, and a bit preoccupated (that’s “worried,” for those of you who don’t speak middle school Spanglish). Was I just too stressed to calm down and breathe? I didn’t think so.

I haven’t been up to much of anything lately, which would imply that there was little to worry me. I mean, I’m only actually working 16 or so hours a week, plus prep time, of course, but that’s still not much, even if you add the two hour round trip daily commute. But I don't like to feel like I'm just sitting around either.

Spring brings strawberries sold by the kilo and wrapped up in a paper cornucopia

I have too much free time now that my Spanish class ended and I’ve given up on Vespa dreams. (Having not even gotten close to taking the theoretical tests, by July I’d have run out of the time, money and patience necessary to actually get to the point of zipping about the city en moto.) It's time to get busy again. What to do with the five or so months I’ve still got in Madrid? Why, enroll in a poetry workshop in Spanish! Offer private English lessons in the afternoons! Turn Sunday knitting sessions into a book group as well!

I have my first taller de poesía tomorrow. I’m confronting the ways in which poetry intimidates me. This class, Lenguajes poéticos en el límite: la mirada y la música (Poetic language at its limit: gaze and music) assures us would-be poets that the end goal isn’t that we become poets or even produce poems. Our objetivo is to approach the poetic with absolute attention. I can do that at least, even in Spanish.

After posting a couple announcements online, I’ve got a few takers for private English lessons and a language exchange to work on my own Spanish. (The man who offered to exchange massage for English lessons, however, will simply have to find someone else.) I should be able to cement a schedule for those this week.

The other two chicas tejeras and I, three TAs who meet in cafes about the city to knit on Sundays when we’re not traveling, miss intelligent literary discussion (not that I don’t love reading Holes with the segundos and trying to convince them of its fabulousness), so we’re setting up our own little reading group. Next week, Hannah can teach us to make socks while we chat about the short story “Todos tienen premio, todos” by Mexican author Emiliano Pérez Cruz.

In honor of all the literary and language activities coming up and Valentine’s Day tomorrow, I’ll share with you one of my favorite poems by one of my favorite poets, Brenda Shaughnessy's “One Love Story, Eight Takes," which you can find here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=182961. Do check it out. It offers so much no matter how you read it.

“Do sweets soothe pain or simply make it stick?” Shaughnessy asks. “Which is the worst! So much technology / and no fix for sticky if you can’t taste it.” In my downtime, I’ve spent a lot of time with my computer, searching for the balance between living my Spanish life and keeping in touch with my vida estadounidense. It’s difficult to separate the two after all, especially as I have no intention of staying on for another year. In July, I’ll be back in Michigan. Spain is only a temporary home.

Spring in Spain, though, means soccer, sunshine and strawberries. Stickiness still left to taste here, and still left to write back about. As Shaughnessy remarks: “You must stack stories from the foundation up. / From the sad heart and the feet tired of supporting it. / Language is architecture, after all, not an air capsule, / not a hang glide. This is real life.” So it is, and it’s much better if it’s shared, even if that means spending as much time on Skype as in the streets of Madrid. It also demands attention and groundedness “[b]ecause no one unbuilds meticulously / and meticulously is what allows hearing.” I’m hoping to find that in my new activities.

Feliz día de San Valentín, happy Valentine´s Day, however you want to say it. I’m particularly fond of the Mexican version: feliz día de amor y amistad, happy day of love and friendship.

Spring also brings new haircuts, this one not entirely intentional. It's growing on me though.