The Road Les Traveled: Parks, Games and Birthdays

Me: “Hi George, it’s Leslie”

George: “Oh, hello Leslie”

Me: “So, I am teaching tomorrow, right?”

George: “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I spoke with the company on Friday and they cancelled their Tuesday and Thursday morning classes. But, I do have a class for you on Monday mornings.”

Me: “Ok, well I’ll see you on Monday then, adios.”

This conversation took place 2 weeks ago on the 14th. My oh so professional boss simply forgot to tell me that my 7:30am classes were cancelled. Thank goodness I called him to double check or else I would’ve found myself in an empty classroom, experiencing a major case of deja vu from freshman year at the U of M, but that’s another story. Since this phone conversation I have taught 2 monday morning classes. Contrary to previous beliefs, I am no longer in the hot seat having to brush up on all forms of the english language. Instead, I prepare for class by browsing through a business textbook, looking for interesting scenarios and relevant topics of conversation. Roberto is my only student so far, but George has informed me that latecomers are not uncommon. Roberto is 35 years old, stands eye to eye with me, is always nicely dressed in dress slacks and sport coats, has peppery black hair like George and after today’s session is starting to appear considerably more at ease in my classroom. His job does not require him to speak english, but like many other students he has the desire to learn english for personal reasons, like travel.

Thanks to Roberto, I explored a nearby park this past week that he had told me about in our first session. The park is called Juan Carlos el Primero and is about a 45 minute metro ride away from my apartment. There are 3 large parks in Madrid, Juan Carlos 1, Retiro and Al Campo. Juan Carlos is very different from Retiro park and from Al Campo which are more or else both located in downtown Madrid. Retiro is full of large, old trees, antique sculptures, rose gardens and history while Al Campo is a vast area of land with plenty of room for energetic canines to burn off some energy.

The large red Fruit Loop, or at least that's what I call it.

Some interesting sculptures.

Juan Carlos on the other hand is more modern, and is home to some very large pieces of abstract art. Attached is a picture of me with the big, red Life Savor. Along with each piece of art was a description of the artists intentions, unfortunately I wasn’t able to properly decipher what this magical, Willy Wonka sized Life Savor actually was. My confusion quickly turned into excitement as I saw a sign advertising bike rentals. I approached the rental counter and with the most polite spanish voice I could conjure, told the young woman that I would like very much to rent one of her bright blue bicycles. She then asked me for a form of identification upon which I promptly handed her my Minnesota Drivers License since my passport was safely tucked away in my bedroom. She took one fleeting glance at my I.D. and curtly told me that I was unable to rent a bike, no ifs ands or buts about it. My chipper mood was quickly dismissed as I swallowed back the rock of frustration in my throat.

Yep, it's pretty big.

When I returned to my apartment I had just a few minutes to spare before Pablo arrived to pick me up for the days english lesson with his kids. The hour flew by quickly, as always, and left me feeling content about the days progress. I was also reminded of my invitation to attend lunch with their family on Saturday. Saturday was Pablo’s birthday and the fact that they wanted me to come and share in that day meant an awful lot to me. So, when Saturday rolled around I made sure to track down my favorite cookie recipe, round up all the ingredients and get to baking. The cookie I made is called a Monster cookie, complete with peanut butter, oats and M & M’s. The recipe also calls for chocolate chips, but I couldn’t find them anywhere! Showing up with cookies earned me big points with Maria, Juan and Luis, especially since the cookies were dotted with brightly colored M&M’s. I could see the sparks of curiosity flashing in the adults eyes as they regarded the tin beholding the american treat.

In Spain, as well as Switzerland, they refer to their meals as first plate, second plate and possibly a third plate. So, the first plate that was set in-front of me was full of large, flat mushrooms that were covered in an oil,garlic and almond sauce. I have never just sat down and eaten a plate of mushrooms and I was nervous that I wasn’t going to like it, but my taste buds were pleasantly surprised and I polished off every last bit. The 2nd plate was lamb accompanied by a mild salsa of tomatoes, onions and peppers. There was no 3rd plate which allowed us to skip right along to dessert. The cookies were a huge success! Everybody loved them and they all requested that I make them again.

After the coffee was served I spent some time with the children. Juan inserted a cd into the cd player and the next thing I knew I was singing Old McDonald Had a Farm! 4 year old Luis didn’t know any of the words, but he sat patiently shrugging his shoulders up and down in rhythm to the music waiting for his cue, and then with a loud burst his little mouth would open real wide and the tune of “E-I-E-I-O!” would bellow out of him;) I danced the Hokey Pokey, taught them Head Shoulders Knees and Toes, the Itsy Bitsy Spider and sang a very merry rendition of Jingle Bells. Childhood memories rushed at me from all sides and I began to laugh. There I was, in Spain, singing Old McDonald with 3 young madrilenos.

Throughout all of lunch Pablo, his wife Blanca and Lucia the mother of Alvaro and Mario, all gave me a hard time about my game later in the evening, saying that I better play well or else they would be to blame for feeding me such a rich lunch. Luckily, no one had to fess-up for filling my wine glass, insisting that I take seconds and guilting me into eating more cream puffs;)

We played a team called Irlandesa who had lost all 3 of their previous games, but not by much. Teams like this always make me nervous because more often than not players overlook them and as a result come mentally unprepared to play, which leads to an upsetting loss. Thankfully, our coach does enough yelling and screaming that anybody who happened to be off in la la land was quickly and crudely brought back to reality. My high school friend, Alana, came to the game and afterwards she exclaimed, “Man your coach is intense!” European basketball is a funny business, one in which coaches yell, shriek and holler a colorful stream of prose that would get them booted out of a U.S. gym so quickly they wouldn’t know what hit them. The surprising part about all of this is that these vulgar words are completely main stream and the referees could care less. At the end of the day I know my coach is a great guy and even when he’s ranting and raving about a turnover or a late help on a screen, he’ll give me one quick wink and I’ll remember not to listen to the tone, but to the message behind it.

Alana and I after the game!

Leslie’s Loose Ends:

I taught Sarah Crooks how to gargle with salt water this week. 25 years old and she was just swishing it around like scope. Too funny.

Our strength coach gave me a gift the other day, it was a U.S. penny that he had found on the street. He told me it was for good luck;)

Went to the surprise birthday party of my teammate’s boyfriend and found a platter of marshmallows. They really dress them up over here, all of them were in different shapes and colors.