Letter of the Day: P

First off, I would just like to announce that lately I’ve felt like an official adult. In the span of one week, I took my winter coat to the dry cleaners (who even uses dry cleaners? adults, that’s who!), dealt with credit card fraud from abroad (who even has a credit card to get fraud-ed? adults, that’s who!), and took care of myself while sick with an awful cold (who takes care of themselves? ADULTS, THAT’S WHO!).

Other than that, these past few weeks have been full of P-related activities:

1. I went to Pastrana, a little town east of Madrid, with a co-worker. And while the people in Pastrana will do their darndest to convince you otherwise, there is very little to see in Pastrana. Especially when it is raining. Which it was. The whole time.

2. I toured the Palacio Real. A group of Harvard alums got a guided tour of the sections of the palace open to the public, and then we got a sneak peek into the old kitchens downstairs, the private wing upstairs, and the carriage houses, home to the carriages, obvi, but also some super large horses. (Thanks for the in, Harvard Club of Spain!) The horses were Dutch and basically the size of giraffes, #sopretty #earlybdaypresentplz. I was the spring chicken of the tour group by at least 25 years but probs more like 40.

During one of the few non-rainy moments in Porto...

3. I went to Porto. (With Ryanair and made it there! Apparently that is some sort of miracle.) Porto is incredible, everyone should go. Most people we met were SO friendly, plus the Portuguese actually know how to make good desserts!! In fact, I basically ate only desserts (and seafood nom) the whole weekend. And here I was just starting to convince myself that Spanish desserts were okay and now I’ve gone and ruined myself… Anyway, we saw just about all there is to see in Porto when it is raining. Which it was. The whole time.

And finally, I will share with you my favorite moment of every week, which has nothing to do with the letter 'p':

On Thursday evenings, a.k.a. the first joyous hours of my weekend, I go to a Bible class that’s a bit of a walk from my apartment. To get there, I walk across this plaza between the Royal Palace and the Opera House. It’s always just gotten dark, the old-fashioned streetlamps have come on, people are walking out and about but it’s mostly pretty quiet, the Palace and Opera House are all lit up, and I can almost always hear the sound of a street musician’s accordion wafting on the breeze as he serenades passersby with a traditional favorite, usually “La Vie en Rose.”  And on this walk, it always hits me: I am in Europe. Life is beautiful. (And I need to remember to drop a coin in that busker’s hat.)

xx,

E.

ANNOUNCEMENT

So I've been keeping this to myself for a few years now, but it's gotten increasingly difficult to hold in (as is the case with most secrets). I was worried people wouldn't understand. But I'm sure it'll feel good to get off my chest, so here goes: I am in love.

… with the Spanish language.

(Did I scare you, Mom? Hehe)

I think I fully realized it when I was home for Christmas and missed Spanish like crazy. There were so many times when one of my siblings would say something, and I longed to respond with a (usually somewhat snarky) “ojalá.” I had to check the impulse, though, because it wouldn’t have been funny... Anyway, as they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder, so by the time my flight to Madrid rolled around, I was so excited to see (/hear, obvi) Spanish again!   

Since we first met, I’ve liked how polite Spanish can be. The fact that it has a separate verb tense for the formal "you" is largely responsible for that. Or, take its words for “excuse me.” If you want to squeeze past someone on a train or bus, you say “con permiso,” literally, “with your permission.” To get someone’s attention, it’s “perdona” or “disculpe,” both of which carry a formality that the English seems to have lost. On an equally gracious note: when you are introduced to someone for the first time, they’ll tell you that they are “encantado/a,” or “enchanted” to meet you! And then, when you leave, regardless of whether you will ever see them again, it's “we’ll see each other” yayy. If the Spanish language were a person, I am quite certain that it would also pull out my chair for me at a restaurant and carry my heavy suitcase up the stairs.

One hand is mine,
one hand is Spanish's.

Spanish is also very forgiving. Have you forgotten something, or lost something, or dropped something down the stairs? Nope, you haven’t! In all of those cases, the thing being forgotten or lost or dropped is the subject of the sentence and thus arguably shoulders the responsibility, while you (you poor thing!) are simply the person who happened to be on the receiving end of the misfortune.  

And finally (although this speaks to culture as well as to language), Spanish has a way with women. There are a million ways to say “pretty,” all of which are used without batting an eye. Women are greeted by friends, acquaintances, and even strangers with an “hola, linda” or “¿qué tal, guapa?” or “hola, bonita” to name just a few. I consider myself pretty immune to flattery, and even I fell hard haha.

For all of these reasons and many more, I’m head over heels for Spanish (and happy to be safely back to Madrid!). I must say, though, that when I was (incorrectly) informed that Spanish didn’t have a verb that signified “to bake,” we almost broke up. But then I consulted with one of my best friends, wordreference.com. It kindly provided “hornear,” and I was officially over the moon once again. 

I'll be here in Madrid with Spanish until the end of June, so come visit us if you have a chance. (: Hope everyone had a lovely Christmas! 

Besos (y feliz año a todos),

E.