Yep, we missed that train.

On Sunday night as my friend and I were driving down the highway, I saw an utmost unusual sight.  It was big, had four wheels, four doors and what looked to be a plow on the front end.  Could it honestly be a snowplow?  But, to have a snowplow there must be snow, right?  Well, then I went to practice last night and was greeted by my coach who was wearing a big, almost proud grin on his face as he asked me “did you see the snow this morning?!” I gazed back at my coach in an almost mystified trance and then managed to ask him, “Did I need a microscope in order to see it?”  I think I may have hit a sore spot with that comment, but seriously, are they meaning to tell me that the massive beast of a snowplow that I saw hibernating on the highway the night before was there to clear the roads on Monday morning?  

A light dusting in Madrid.

Here in Madrid, the tale of snow would lay more comfortably between Goldilocks and Pussin Boots than it would on the streets of Alcobendas.  I am told, however, that it did snow at least once during last year’s winter months.  The temperature has dropped a bit in the last couple days, forcing me to dawn my winter hat and scarf, but I’ll believe the snow when I can see it melting on my own two eyelashes.  

Last week there was a holiday in Spain called the Inmaculada Concepcion or the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary.  On this particular day nobody had to work, which is why we were able to have a basketball game.  Our competition did not come from an island, but instead came from the basque country, up near Bilbao.  They are near the bottom of our conference, but they came into our gym and shot an unbelievably high percentage from the field and in the end snatched the win right out from under us, 73-70.  There were some very long faces after this game and a coach who found it very difficult to enter the locker room to talk to his players.  The week before, a couple of my teammates and I had purchased tickets to see a comedy for after the game on Tuesday.  I was no longer in the cheeriest of moods for going out, but nonetheless I put on my party pants and drove into Madrid. 
 

Joy from the outside, pretty basic.

The comedy show was held at a place called, Joy, which also serves as a nightclub.  The outside of the building looked quite nice and turned out to be a completely different scene than what I had expected.  I was under the impression that we would be sitting in a place similar to that of Comedy Sports in Uptown, but that was not the case at all.  Joy turned out to be quite magical.  There were spot lights shining on the talent, impressive furnishings on the chairs and walls, the ting ting of glasses, guffaws of laughter and the heart warming sites of happy faces and rapidly clapping hands.  There were three levels to the club, each with a balcony that looked down onto the main floor and the stage. I am horrible with estimations but I would guess that there were 500 or more people who were enjoying the show.

Quite glamorous from the inside!

There were 3 comedians in total and each one did a splendid job.  Surprisingly enough, the first two were received with a bit more enthusiasm than the closer, but I found each one rather delightful.  Topics ranged from food to cultural differences and to the relationships between men and women.   I enjoyed the experience immensely even though I couldn’t sit back and relax like everyone else, but instead had to put a great amount of effort into understanding each monologue.

The rest of the week was full of classes and practices and then Saturday came along with a hustle-n-bustle all of its own accord.  Saturday’s game was played in Zaragoza, the 5th largest city in Spain with a population of 682,000 in 2008.  Our game was at 6:15pm and we were taking the 1:30pm AVE train which would bring us into the city around 3pm.  Well, Marta, Sarah and myself headed out the door around 12:40 in order to meet our teammates around 1:00pm at the train station.  Little did we know, however, that there was a riot taking place in the city.  The streets were absolutely packed with people, cars and busses.  We found ourselves stuck in traffic and going nowhere, real fast.  We decided to park the car and take the metro, but our coach called and told us to jump in a taxi, so that’s what we did.  Our taxi driver (don’t recall his name) was young and didn’t speak much english, but what he did do was drive and drive real fast.  We were maneuvering in and out of cars like nobodies business.  I think this young fella actually enjoyed making his 3 passengers gasp and clutch the sides of the taxi as he sped, braked, shifted and screeched through downtown Madrid.  How we managed to arrive at the train station without being in one fender bender is beyond me. 

Upon arriving at the station and before the car had the chance to come to a complete stop, we thrust open the doors and took off at a dead sprint.  Huffing and puffing we arrived at the gate, only to be told that “we’re sorry, even though the train has not left yet, the doors have been closed and we can’t let you board.”   After much persuasion and pleading we finally accepted the fact that this woman’s heart was made of stone, and so we skulked away to the ticket office in attempt at changing our tickets.  Luckily, there was another train leaving for Zaragoza at 3:30.  So, the three of us and our assistant coach, Jose, found a restaurant and ate our pre-game meal together while everyone else was eating on the train.  

quick look as to where we were going. North East of Madrid.

 After a quick jaunt on the train, we rolled into Zaragoza at 5:00pm, took a taxi to the gym and walked in right as our teammates were taking the floor for warmups.  As we were stretching, I glanced up into the stands and saw a familiar face, but not too familiar.  His name is Pac Plou Espinosa and he was a foreign exchange student at Hopkins High School for his junior and senior years.  When I was in 5th and 6th grade, I remember going with my family to watch the games and hearing this rather different name roll off the announcers tongue.  I remember watching this tall, lanky, dark haired spanish guy run up and down the floor, scoring in a fashion that was deliciously different and exciting to all of the spectators watching.  Now, 13 years later, it was brought to my attention that Pac and I share a mutual friend.  During one of his two years at Hopkins, Pac lived with a man named, Brian Cosgriff.  Have you made the connection yet? Brian Cosgriff was my high school basketball coach for 5 years and when he found out that I had a game in Zaragoza, Spain (Pacs home town), he sent a message out to Pac letting him know that I would be coming. 

So, I had never had an actual conversation with this Pac character until this past Saturday, but I definitely had memories of him and when I saw his face in the stands he looked the same as he did in my 6th grade memory.  We had a very brief, but fun conversation, talking about our connection, people we both knew and life at the present moment.  Pac was not able to stay for the whole game, so our 5 minute conversation during warmups was all I got, but it sure was nice to have someone in the stands. 

Besides seeing a familiar face in the stands, there was a familiar face on the opposing team as well.  Her name is Kristin Weiner and she played for Holy Angels; it seems that Spain has been infiltrated with Minnesotans;)  The game was one of those games that would have made my mom close her eyes or leave the gym, just like she does during a scary movie.  The first half was great.  We were clicking on the offensive and defensive ends of the floor which allowed us a nice 12 point cushion going into the half.  During the 3rd quarter we built our lead to as much as 15 and then the down-hill slide began.  Basketball is a tale of two halves and sure enough the home team tied it up as the last seconds ticked off the clock.  5 extra minutes were put up on the clock and I was left to sit and watch from the bench, as I had fouled out halfway through the 4th quarter. 

The final score was 75-71, Alcobendas.  Thank goodness we won or else our little mishap on the train might not have been overlooked as quickly as it was.  We are 7-4 as we approach our last game this Saturday before the holiday break. 

Sadly enough, there is no Julie and Julia excerpt for this week.  Sarah and her friend/former teammate, Kata from Hungary, spent all day on Sunday in Madrid, while I spent the day with Pablo and his family.  Maria and Juan both competed in cross country races, which gave me the opportunity to watch them in action for a change.  After the race we went out for tapas and then home for lunch where we had a wonderful meal that was topped off with pumpkin pie.  I was really nervous for Pablo and Blanca to try it, but was put at ease when they quickly gobbled down their first piece and helped themselves to a second.  The kids on the other hand were not as open minded to the new dessert.  4 year old, Luis, was fed a forkful and promptly spit it right back out onto the kitchen table.  Ha, luckily I have tough skin. 

Leslie’s Loose Ends:

 Did I ever mention that there is a Domino’s Pizza down the street from my apartment?

 As Sarah and I walk to class on Tuesday and Thursday mornings we pass by an elementary school.  Every morning there is a loud speaker that plays music, signaling to the children that it is time to start the day.  The other day as we were walking the music started to play and soon enough we figured out which song it was, “Chim Chiminey, Chim Chiminey, Chim chim cher-ee...!” Gotta love a little Mary Poppins in the morning.
  

The next time that you are wanting to stay home and watch a movie, please rent “The Blind Side” with Sandra Bullock.

Take care, everyone!  Have a great week,

Leslie