The Mother-in-Law

No, not mine... his. With marriage comes in-laws and all of the stereotypical baggage that that relationship implicates. In this case, things have gotten off to a good start, as my Mum left a quite positive comment on the entry in Chris' blog about our marriage. It made me very happy and very proud to read it! :J

Believe It or Not!

I can’t believe that I spent nearly two months in Spain and wrote only one entry for this blog. It’s true that I was busy enough experiencing living in a foreign country and documenting that experience through photos, not to mention the commitment required for my two Spanish courses in Madrid and the independent study that I’m doing for law school! It took a couple of weeks to adjust emotionally and physically to being abroad. It was quite an adventure living in a cosmopolitan city of six million people in a foreign country where I had to use my foreign language skills on a daily an hourly basis to survive. In the end, I not only survived, but flourished, and came to love my temporary home! I made many wonderful friends of classmates, my señora and her family, and other madrileños. I learned a great deal about myself, too, by finding the assertive part of myself, by pushing the limits of my tolerance for daily annoyances, by pressing myself to persevere in difficult tasks, and by stretching to communicate with people with a completely different perspective and approach than I.

I can’t believe that I finally met Enrico, my Italian pen-friend of seventeen years! After my Spanish courses ended, I flew to Italy and spent a few days in Modena getting to know Enrico, his family, and his hometown. After Italy, I went to France to spend a long weekend with friends who live south of Lyon, near Montélimar; they live in a fairy tale – a medieval village with a castle towering over and surrounded by mountains and vineyards. In both France and Italy I had to pull out and dust off my French in order to talk with my friends, find my way about, and get along in daily life.

I can’t believe that I’m already back in the States and working in my internship in the District Attorney’s office and living with my grandparents. Pepper and I have installed ourselves in Rockingham with Mamaw and Papaw. I awaken early, put on a suit, and head to the courthouse, where I observe in court and do research to help the prosecutors to prepare for upcoming cases. Deputies, jurors, defendants, defense counsel, and even judges have all addressed me as if I were already a lawyer; at least I look the part!

I can’t believe that on 4 July, the day after I returned from Spain, Chris, my boyfriend of two-and-a-half years, proposed to me over lunch in the restaurant where we rekindled the friendship that we initiated fifteen years ago. I was dumbfounded and couldn’t speak for a moment, but I eventually gathered enough wits to accept! After some discussion of what to do next (set a date for a ceremony, elope, plan a reception), we went on to purchase the rings that we’d chosen before I went to Spain, said vows to one another in private, and are now married – husband and husband. Chris wrote about this event in his blog far more eloquently than I did here!

I can’t believe what an amazing man I have in my life. Chris is intelligent (especially so in ways that I’m not), gifted in dealing with children, a great cook, disarmingly handsome, a gentle lover, and has a seemingly unending capacity to love. He is a good friend, was a great boyfriend, and will certainly be a wonderful husband and father.

I can’t believe the reactions of our families. Chris’ family comes from a religious background, but most of them root their faith in love and choose to express that emotion over others. Chris’ sister voiced her delight at the prospect of my being her brother-in-law several weeks ago. Chris sat down with his parents just a couple of days after our exchange of rings and was pleasantly surprised by their reaction and their willingness to engage in dialogue. My own mother expressed unabashed pleasure at the news, exclaiming “You picked a good one!” My dad was surprised at the quick turn of events, but was delighted and wished us much happiness. My grandmother was also caught off-guard by the surprise news and I was caught equally off-guard by her reaction. My mother had apparently told her that someone had gotten married and that she should phone me for details; she did and when I revealed the newlyweds’ identity, I was met with silence. When I saw her in person the next day, a disrespectful comment on her part resulted in a confrontation between us which ended only with ruffled feathers being smoothed, rather than any meeting of the minds, or, for that matter, any congratulations.

Having covered what I can’t believe, you might be wondering what I can believe. I can and do believe that life is a series of challenges to which we must rise and that the greatest injustice that we can commit against ourselves is to think that we aren’t good enough to achieve great things or that we don’t deserve to have great things happen to us. :J

Madrid 1: Journey and Arrival

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

Four Dollars

Ugh. I saw this horrid sight for the first time in my life, but probably not the last.

It's kinda funny -- last week, a classmate and I were fussing about fuel prices when I speculated, "I'd be that diesel will be up to four dollars per gallon by Labor Day (beginning of September), maybe even Memorial Day (end of May)." Or... tomorrow! This followed a fifty-cent rise in the price of diesel over a two week period. Ugh. :J