After a whirlwind of studying, exams that felt like one punch after another, and seeing to countless details, I boarded a plane at noon EDT on Thursday and headed for Madrid. Despite connections in Detroit and Amsterdam, the trip felt short. Heck, after that 19-hour flight to Manila, almost any non-inter-planetary trip would feel short!
Dutch security tried to throw a monkey-wrench into my travel plans. I was trotting through the terminal of Schiphol airport, following the signs to the gate for the final leg of my trip when -- Bam! -- I ran right into a crowd of people sifting VERY slowly through passport control and customs. I stood in one line for about ten minutes without moving before deciding to head over to the "quick connections" line. Despite its name, it wasn't moving much faster than the other lines. Tempers flared. People shouted at the Passport agents in French and Dutch and with Australian, British, and totally foreign accents that they were missing their connections. I was in danger of missing my own connection! I watched as flights leaving at the same time as mine showed "boarding" and then "gate closing". I tried to not panic. At the x-ray belt, people flung things trough, disregarding admonishments to remove liquids, gels, shoes, belts, laptops, etc. I grabbed my bags and started to run as I fed my belt through the loops on my pants, then stopped short, realizing that I'd left my wallet, passport, and onward ticket at the x-ray! I dropped my bags right there in the middle of the airport and went back for my other things! Granted, it was only about 15 feet, but in the pressing crowd, Jimmy Hoffa could've disappeared.
I did make it to my flight to Madrid. As I approached the gate, I heard my name announced over the public address system. The gate agents and flight crew were very friendly and welcomed me warmly; they expressed genuine concern that I had to rush and told me to relax on the flight and let them take care of me. No problem! KLM treated us all well with good food and extremely friendly staff, so the flight from Amsterdam to Madrid was awesome. There was no passport control or customs to speak of in Madrid; I just walked past a lone Guardia Civil that ignored me. Cash. Change. Phone call ("Hola, Marlí ¡he llegado!"). Taxi. Apartment. Exhale. Relief!
I have eaten and slept a good bit since my arrival this morning. I was hoping to lose some weight in Madrid with all of the extra walking and none of the fast food, but if my señora keeps feeding me like this, those hopes will be dashed. I have already had a pan-fried chicken breast with garlic, green salad, and a huge tortilla. Of course, a Spanish tortilla is what we'd call an omelette -- chopped potatoes and onions mixed with a few eggs and baked on the stovetop in a pan so that it looks a bit like a stout cake of cornbread. Yum!
I have taken some photos of the apartment where I'm staying, as well as the little bit of Madrid that I can see from my windows. I walked around the neighborhood after dinner, but it was too dark to take photos then. BTW, it didn't get completely dark until 10.30 PM! I plan to go out tomorrow to take photos of the neighborhood, scope out the route to school, and see Retiro Park. Retiro Park was once a wilderness preserve and royal retreat, so it is to Madrid as Central Park is to New York or Bosque Chapultepec is to Mexico City.
I have discovered just how much energy it takes to concentrate on what people are saying so that I can understand them. I am blessed with a good accent, so people can understand me easily when I speak Spanish, but that leads my listener to assume that I'm gonna understand him/her when s/he talks back! Not always the case at present. I'm confident, however, that if I maintain throughout my trip the level of interaction that I've had today, I'll have made a big improvement in my skills!
For now, I'm off to dream-land! Er, I mean... el país de los sueños. :J
