2/29/2012

Siesta! Everybody's doing it...


What is this mysterious thing called a siesta and where can I get one? Before moving to Spain never in my life had I thought about taking a nap. Even when you are a kid in preschool you kick and scream and fight taking a nap because you want to run around like a crazy demon child and take over the school with all the other little children (also known as play time). Even at a young age, we American children know what nap time means. It means missing out on the world around us and not accomplishing our main goal - play time. Later on in life this transfers over to work time, but it is pretty much the same. To American’s, Sleep = Lazy. 
We will first start by taking control of this space craft!
Even someone who needs 8 hours of sleep every night feels as if they are wasting time, but they can’t help it, they need 8 hours of sleep or they can’t function even with 20oz of coffee, a 52oz soda, chocolate and no-dos (or other energy supplements). I am sad for these people; they shouldn’t feel bad for sleeping 8 hours a night. 8 hours is wonderful, glorious, amazing and healthy! But, for us American’s that is the maximum limit. Let’s take someone who sleeps 10 hours a night for example, in the US they might go to the doctor to see what was wrong with them! 10 hours of sleep! Man that is 4 more hours than you really need, come on, get it together! If you didn’t have a rough drunk night the night before or an all-nighter in college and those 10 hours aren’t taken over the weekend, it is completely unjustified. 
Okay, now you can sleep.
Now, if sleeping for a normal amount of time at night is unacceptable, it is pretty easy to imagine that naptime is way out of the question. But here in Spain, it is completely acceptable to take a nap in the middle of the day. In fact, lunch time and store hours are based around this amazing thing called a siesta. Most stores are closed from one or two in the afternoon until four or five in the early evening. This means no shops are open (except a few mega stores and Chinese dollar stores but they don’t count). 
This is what happens when you don't close for a siesta, and then they steal your fruit...
I remember thinking when I got here, like a good American, I can get sooooo much done in this 3 hour block of time! I can run errands, I can go shopping, I can do all the things I need to do but can’t during the day because I’m at work or in class. Man was I wrong! Everything I wanted was closed, the bank, the grocery store, the bookstore, the library, clothing stores, jewelry stores, even a couple of the dollar stores were closed. The only places open during this time of the day are bars and restaurants. For the most part, the only thing you are allowed to do is eat and take a siesta.
I'm dead serious.
I have recently found that the gym is still open during this time (but it is so packed you don’t really want to be there) and that the megastore El Corte Inglés is open, but I hate that place. I went to buy fruit at my local fruit shop (known as la Frutería) today and they were even closed for siesta and that place is open on holidays! That is just how important the siesta is! 
El Corte Inglés makes me want to gouge my eyes out...
Does this mean that everyone takes a two hour nap? No, most people during this time eat their large meal for the day, or eat in a restaurant or visit with their friends and family, and then most people will take their 20 or 30 minute siesta. It is even a very peaceful few hours, even kids don’t usually start playing in the streets and being noisy until about 5pm. Granada, a city in southern Spain, even has noise laws prohibiting it to be noisy between 3 and 5pm! After 5pm these places will open up again and bars and restaurants will be closed until around 8 or 9pm when they open back up for dinner. 
I know you want to take a nap by a La Alhambra fountain!
So why in the world does Spain have siesta anyway?! The siesta was originally a part of Spanish culture to protect themselves from the sun (as the hour of siesta is at the hottest and highest point of sun in the day), to rejuvenate themselves for their afternoon work, and to recover from their giant lunches. Because Spaniards eat lunch as their main meal of the day, they are quite drowsy afterwards and need a nap. So after chatting with friends or family and eating their main meal of the day, they will take a little 20 minute nap and get up feeling refreshed and ready to head back to work. 
Gorilla Siesta on your back!
Now, I am ready for my siesta!

Until next time,
Raely Marie

2/22/2012

Make believe, I apparently don't exist here in Spain...


When I was 12 I had four identities. That’s right four and I wasn’t even a secret spy! When you are in foreign language class in middle school, you get to select a new name for yourself.

 And psychologists wonder why children who learn a foreign language sometimes acquire a completely different and distinct identity in the second tongue!
Some might consider this the beginning of multiple personality disorder, but for our foreign language teachers it was a way to submerge us into the ….culture? Or perhaps there was a list of names and they only had to learn those 20 names for every student they ever had… Now that I think about it, I should do this with my 300 students! (Genius)
his name is my name too, whenever we go out, the people always shout, There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, NANANANNANANNAAA (anyone? no? ok)
Granted I work in Spain and therefore I can guess half the time Jorge, Maria or Alberto and someone will answer. Anyway…

So at 12, I was Myself, Yvette, Maria and Uschi. Yvette was my sexy French name, which explains why when I speak French I feel elegant and sexy. It doesn’t help that everyone in the US loves when someone speaks French, because French carries with it the connotation of being the language of loooove.

I typed Yvette in google image search. Bad idea. Everything was grotesquely inappropriate- so this is what you get... pervs....
Maria I hated, because I felt as if my original name was very unique and with this common name I was merely one of the one million Marias in the world. Also my middle name is Marie, therefore not good enough to be my first name and thus should never be my first name. 
Let's not kid ourselves here....
Uschi I carried with me for much more time as it became my future camp name when I worked at an all girl’s summer camp. It was unique, like my real name, and it was fun and weird, so I continued to use it for quite awhile. 
Apparently, Uschi is a dirty hooker name too, soooo we won't be posting that! Wow, how innocent I must be... Don't try this google search at home kids!
When I arrived in Spain I never realized how difficult my name actually was. In the US, I only had the issue that no one knew how to spell it, but in Spain… No one could even understand it to begin with! It’s not just pronouncing it that is a problem, it’s that it doesn’t sound like anything to them. To them my name is a conglomerate of weird sounds thrown together and therefore they can never remember it. So we, Cari and I, began contemplating what to call me. 

Hrmmmm... What should I call myse... HOLY SHIT where's my Abdomen!??!
Sitting at the pool, we ran into two of her neighbors. We found a bunch of ancient Spanish names that started with R and went from there. But, I didn’t want to be someone different in Spain, I merely wanted people here to know who I was. So, Cari’s neighbor simply- Spanishified my name. This means, she heard it once, we spelled it for her, and she told us how they would pronounce that strangely spelled word if it were Spanish.
And then there was Reili.............
And there my new name was born. Reili or Reiline pronounced in American (Ray-lee or Ray-lee-nay). So, finally, for the first time since I’ve been learning languages- I get to be me. Goodbye personality disorder! Hello coherent Raelynne... Reili?... Reiline? oh fuck....
Maybe we didn't beat it...

12/11/2011

Thanksgiving- a new International Holiday

So I have been absent from the blog world for quite awhile, I blame the real world for that one. But upon request I am about to present to you the most Traditional Thanksgiving in the most UNtraditional Thanksgiving location- SPAIN. For some of you who are not aware, Spain and the rest of the world does NOT celebrate Thanksgiving. As a matter of fact only the United States and Canada celebrate this wonderful bizarre mystical holiday- but after the display we put on for our friends here in Europe- It may very well be on its way to becoming a new INTERNATIONALLY celebrated Un-official OFFICIAL holiday! That’s right. They liked it so much, they want seconds. Thanksgiving 2012 is already in the preliminary planning process!

I love you Mr. Turkey- you're going to be soooo Yummy!
A now for no further a due- the lineup:

Nationalities represented:
American- Nebraska, Missouri, Kansas, Michigan & Massachusetts
Cuban
Franco-Portuguese
Spanish (well he's not quite here yet but will be!)
French
Taiwanese (not to be confused with Chinese)
Look at all that foooooood!

Delicious- Pure Delicious-nous!
I think the baby liked the food too!!!
For everyone not North-American this was their first Thanksgiving EVER.

Which meant only one thing- We needed to put on a good show and present them with a “REAL” Thanksgiving. Little did we know, we were about to create the most Traditional Untraditional Thanksgiving of all time.

Food Prepared and Devoured:
Turkey 
10 kilos baby- that's a 22 lb bird right there!
Look at that meat... So moist and juicy!!!
Homemade Turkey gravy
Mmm that looks sooo good!
Homemade Turkey stuffing
Yup I stuffed that inside Mr. Turkey
Corn on the cob 
Cranberry Sauce - whole and jellied
Deviled eggs
Homemade Rolls 
Cuban Tortilla - (a tasty touch to our thanksgiving meal!)
This was just the beginning!
Greenbeans with Mushrooms
Broccoli Pasta Salad
An American style Salad
Mashed Potatoes
Our friends had never seen so much food in one place- for one group of people!
A small touch of Europe:
WINE- lots of wine
My only excuse is that people just kept bringing more and more wine........
Desserts:
Pumpkin cheesecake pie- all the rage Thanksgiving 2011
Zucchini Bread
Pumpkin Bread
Banana Muffins
I couldn't wait to finish that Turkey and get my paws on these!
Sugar cookies that looked like Turkeys
No bake cookies
Macadamia nut cookies
Vegetarian Friendly Turkeys!!!
THE FINAL PRODUCT
That was one delicious plate of food!
Activities:
A long walk around a cute little park in northern Madrid, where we played ping pong, Frisbee, soccer with a basketball and wondered around aimlessly
The Detroit Lions vs. Greenbay Packers American football game - Detroit lost as usual
Charades
And a whole lot of laughs!
We get to host again Next Year!!! haha
Overall, this is by far the most traditional Thanksgiving I have ever been a part of. We stuffed ourselves full, let it settle with some physical activity, stuffed ourselves some more and had the time of our lives. The only thing missing was our families - and for that - we created a little family of our own - right here in Madrid!

Special Thanks to Guillaume! This wouldn't have happened without him!
Until next time-
Raely Marie

11/08/2011

The demon inside my knee...


About three weeks ago my knee swelled up like a bowling ball and took on a mind of its own. One of pain, anger, needles, yellowy liquid, swelling, and refusal to bend or stretch (yeah I know that’s awkward- I mean if you can’t bend it or stretch it what can you do with it? EXACTLY!!). Welcome to my world.
The wizard demon makes his entrance.
SO what did I do? Well, first, I did what every American would do. I walked on it for a week, trying to ignore the pain, and continued on with my daily life. Thinking “Eh, It’s twice the size it’s supposed to be, but I mean, that doesn’t mean it’s serious!”
I mean this guy looks harmless!
And this little demon just wants to use my leg to go skiing...
So it took not being able to bend it and swelling up so big that my thigh looked puny for me to go to the doctor. The first doctor said, go here it’ll be 3 weeks before a Traumotologo can see you. 3 weeks!?!?! Yeah that’s what I thought. So I went to a different doctor (thanks to Henry and Concha who went with me every time to this hospital). These doctors saw me immediately, assigned two metal European style crutches to my name and said don’t get off the couch for 8-10 days, ice it three to four times daily, take these two drugs, and elevate it. Or else. 
Or else this little guy won't be nice little old man Duckington anymore...
So, as you can imagine, this has been quite terrible for the little American girl in Spain. It’s hard enough to get an American to sit still, let alone an ambitions little girl who wants to experience Spain, learn about Huidobro and Nicanor Parra, and of course teach 800 Spanish kids how to rap in English (or speak at least. Lol). 

As the week went by the demon inside my knee began to take over. The drugs helped the swelling go down and the doctor performed an exorcism to extract the little beast’s yellowy gooey soul from my knee.
UGH- wth do you think you're doing!?!? what is that- OH NO there goes part of my soul! ARGHHHH!
This made him angry and he put more pressure on my knee, screaming and yelling to be let out. Started stabbing through the core of my knee and when he got really mad he started pushing at the sides to get out. Mainly punching and stabbing the outside of my knee. 
That's it!! You gone done and PISSED ME OFF NOW!!!
Luckily, with a lot of drugs, ice packs, help from Cari and Guillaume, encouragement from all my friends and family here and back home (seriously, everyone, you helped pull me through this one), the little guy stopped punching and stabbing me and I used my meditative powers to calm him down. So for now he’s subsided to being a not so aggressive genuinely nice fellow. 
                           Must pretend to be happy... Do not want them to take more of my soul....                                                                            hey guys, you don't think they can tell this is a fake smile do you?
So, I am still on crutches, while I slowly squeeze the little bastard out of my knee, slowly and secretively as to not aggravate him and so that he doesn’t know what is happening and won’t cause too much havack inside my poor little left knee.  I mean we wouldn’t want him to turn into this demon again!
Angry SCREAM demon... what's your favorite scary movie? anyone... anyone...
Until next time,
Raely Marie

PS. These are all photos of MY actual KNEE from the MRI they took last week. Yeah- talk about creepy. I prefer to keep my skin on too!