The Political Climate

Spanish required to appreciate the following; no Spanish required 

to infer that Spaniards are not very happy right now.

The Indignados have been camped out in La Puerta del Sol (the center of the city) for several weeks now and don't show any signs of leaving.

And did you know... both political parties in Spain are funded by..... duh duhh duhhhhn.... THE GOVERNMENT??

Madrid

Madrid, a buzzing metropolis, has 6.000.000 inhabitants.

Pause right there. Did you register that, or did you skim over it and keep reading?

Six million, in case you missed it.

Six million people. That's a lot of lives. A lot of stories. Realistically, it's a lot of misery, too, as well as some triumphs here and there.

Honestly, I have no idea what to do with this number.

I suppose it's the Oklahoman in me, but even the endless apartment buildings that I drive by every day, walk underneath and between and alongside, blow my mind. Most are at least 8 or 9 stories of sheer brick and uniform windows. While some are spacious, others - like the one I visited tonight, available for 375E/month - are smaller than your living room. No joke. Now then, eight or nine stories of such living rooms, at least eight wide... multiplied by thousands of such buildings... the number seems more accessible but is still incomprehensible.

There's no room for much of anything except disaster of epic proportions. With so many lives dependent on the system, there's a huge capacity for upheaval.

It's a miracle, then, that Madrid functions as well as it does. Buses and subways connect the whole city - bien comunicado is the technical term, I believe. It takes time, of course, but few places in the American Southwest can boast the same success with transportation. Think what you will about socialism, but it's working - more or less - for six million people. (There are certainly horror stories, yes, but by and large it functions as well as can be expected in such a situation; indeed few -isms can provide so much for so many people...) The majority have jobs and families and live buzzes on for them in a comfortable, predictable manner. Again, this is more than a lot of places can boast.

At the moment, Spain is facing an economic crisis of enormous proportions. Inundated with overenthusiastic Spanish news reports, most people at least have an opinion if asked, but usually they will just shrug and carry on with their normal lives. They only comment when one of their soccer teams, kneeling on the field, forfeits a match because they haven't been paid. "¡Hasta el fútbol, que crisis!" Juan Pedro cried. Even soccer... what a crisis! That said, the economic repercussions haven't seemed to affect his taxi business that much. Life goes on; after all, not too long ago, much of the country was without indoor plumbing, thanks for the Franco regime. They are, therefore, resourceful people, and so a few little news stories create a temporary, dramatic stir (for Spaniards, like Italians, are nothing if not dramatic!), but not much else.

Perhaps it is this resilience that keeps Madrid afloat, soccer or not. If that is the case, six million becomes infinitely more impressive.

Ai, Mi Spaniards

It is possible to walk through several countries in the space of five minutes. Europe, as you know, is much more compacted than the U.S. Actually though, I was referring to the international flight phenomenon. I've noticed that you generally have two categories of travelers on these flights. Natives returning home, and tourists/businessmen. The natives are animated, excited to be on the home stretch and at last surrounded by their fellow countrymen. The tourists are generally more reserved, ready to get their show on the road, secretly double-checking to make sure they have their passport several times. In general, airports tend to be cold, disinterested places in which everyone has his own destination. But listen carefully, and you can catch an uncensored glimpse of the country you're about to spring upon.

I recently realized that, as wonderful as it is to be suspended 5 miles above the ground, soaring toward some unknown adventure, cram-packed with 100 fellow travelers in a tiny seat, I really dislike flying in general and airports in particular. Having been a tenacious traveler in my younger years, this was a surprising realization, and mulling it over, I was perhaps a little less excited than usual to fly into Washington Dulles to await a 7-hour international flight.

Enter Spaniards. Natives, going home. They are, by nature, animated people (imagine the Spanish mother stereotype and you're not far off), and the airport only made them more so. I collapsed in my chair, tired of traveling and prepackaged sandwich in hand, and just listened.

The lilt of the words caught me, and the lisp, for which my students continually laughed at me, enveloped me in a bilingual fog of ecstasy. The men were as expressive as the women, making much of little. Children ran freely. Parents doted on children. The area was relaxed and light hearted.

Ah, Spain, I thought. It's good to be back!