Bullfights and Birthdays

(post written by Charlie)

Often times, when someone is fortunate enough to live, work, or serve in a beautiful and exciting part of the world, they are careful to word their experiences delicately so not to cause their friends, family, supporters, and in my case, co-onSiters, any jealously or malicious thoughts.  I have been called quite a few things throughout my 24 years, and delicate is certainly not one of them.  Becky and I are currently viewing the world through rose-coloured glasses which I'm sure will affect the way I portray what we have experienced in Spain so far.  Many of you know that the hobby that I am most passionate about is photography.  I have been so blown away by how spectacular Madrid is that I haven't wanted to capture it yet.  I feel as though I have to get to know her.  Learn how she inhales and exhales, how she wakes and how she sleeps—I'm still not even sure if she does sleeps.  If she does, it is certainly after Becky and I go to bed, which has been overwhelmingly late since arriving.  No doubt, I will get my camera out sooner of later, but until then, my budding shutterbug of a wife has taken some great shots which I get to share via our blog.

Arrival and Settling

We are certainly still in the "settling in" stage of our year-long journey, but we have experienced so much in just over a week that we feel as though we've been here too long to be settling in.  We arrived to find our mentor, Tim Wendel, a Chicagonian who has been in Spain for eight years, wearing a Hertz Car Rental jacket.  It took us a while to ask him if he was Tim (mainly because of the jacket) and I'm still convinced he was wearing it to throw us off, because we haven't seen him in it since.  We were lead on a whirl-wind tour of Tres Cantos, the suburb of Madrid which will be our home for the next 10 months, in which we met government workers and Jehovah Witnesses, bartenders and basketball players.  Tim may have been keeping us awake, or he may have really wanted us to meet these people, but one thing was very clear: our year in Madrid was going to be all about relationships.  We had lunch—the largest meal of the day—with the Wendel's and discovered that Tim's wife Melanie is an excellent cook and that their four kids had more spunk than should be legal in a one-floor 3 bedroom apartment.  We have felt unbelievably welcome in their home since then and have already grown to think of our mentors and their kids (Timothy, Nathaniel, Elijah, and Olivia) as friends.

In the past week, aside from learning about the work being done in Tres Cantos and being introduced to people, we have begun to learn how our oven works, how to turn on the washing machine, where to buy essentials and groceries, and how to get around on public transit.

Madrid

The beauty of public transit is two-fold: it's cheap, and it leads to Madrid.  For less than 1,00€, and in less than 30 minutes, Becky and I can arrive in the heart of one of the most exciting cities I've ever seen. We are fortunate to be arriving after tourist season and I feel as though the city is once again discovering its pulse at the same time that we are. It's electric.  There are hundreds, nay, thousands of people wandering shopping districts, eating on patios, and enjoying their beautiful city.  Men in the "third age", which refers fondly to our elders, sit in the most public plazas enjoying one another's company around a fountain or reminiscing over a glass of wine at a local café. People of all ages stand in line at a local convent to buy cookies from cloister nuns who cannot be seen by anyone (see video for how this works).  Locals stand around a local meat shop choosing what kind of cured pork to try (the price and the quality improves based on the amount of acorns in the pig's diet).

Perhaps my largest joy so far has been my birthday which was on Thursday of last week. Becky took me to a local Chocolateria half a block from our house which serves Churros (semi-sweet fried dough) which you dip in pudding like hot chocolate.  If this idea doesn't sound appealing to anyone who is reading this, I'm sorry.  I talk about churros now every day.  Despite the fact that we are walking between five and fifteen kilometres a day, I still may gain weight this year.  They haunt my dreams.  It is not a good scene.

After breakfast, we had a short meeting with some members of English camp team here in Tres Cantos (I will discuss this in further posts) and then Becky and I spent the evening wandering old Madrid's churches and palaces as the sun set.  After dark, we went to the Opera district to enjoy a Spanish pizza and assorted tapas, from shrimp and octopus salad to acorn fed "jamon serrano" on crusty Spanish bread.  We boarded the train back home around 10:30 and wandered back up our little Spanish street at about 11:05.

Traveling to España

(post written by Charlie on Monday, September 21, 2008)

¡Hola Amigos!

Well, we've made it! At least, I'm assuming we made it. I'm writing this on our regional trip between Düsseldorf and Madrid on Lufthansa. It's a cute little plane, a little smaller than most Westjet planes, and we're having a hard time believing that it's France we're flying over right now, and not Saskatchewan or Manitoba. I'm sure if we were flying at 5000 ft instead of 30,000 ft. we would see quickly the difference between the canola of the True North, Strong and Free and the vineyards of the French countryside. Alas, we're at 30,000 feet and all we can see are small towns at a distance and prairie landscape.

Early childhood memories caused me to doubt the quality of Lufthansa as an airline. I have very specific memories of sitting in the four passenger section of a 777 and having two rather unattractive German flight attendants yelling in German at one another from opposite ends of the section, and somehow feeling like I was the one being picked on. They were probably just telling each other that they were out of the beef option of the dinner that night, but to me it all sounded like I was in trouble. I tried to put my doubts aside as we boarded the airplane, which did not take long. Even in coach, we were treated like kings and queens! Although we were very impressed by the airline, we hadn't seen anything yet. We still had to see Germany!

When we arrived in Düsseldorf at 6:05, we had 25 minutes to get through customs and to our gate. Our flight was leaving at 6:45 but boarding was 20 minutes earlier than that. To compound matters, at 6:05, we were sitting four rows from the back of the Boeing 777 that we had flown from Toronto to Düsseldorf. As we left the plane, passed through security, cleared customs, and arrived at our gate in approximately 8 minutes, I uttered the words, , "Efficiency, thy name is Germany." I was floored! Between Lufthansa's speed and Düsseldorf's ability to supercharge their staff with lightning, we had time to leisurely use the washroom, for me to put my contacts in, and to enjoy looking at the handsome and beautiful Europeans sitting around us who made us look like schleps (is that Yiddish word or German—either way I think it fits). There was an extremely stylish young woman epitomizing European fashion, Spanish and German businessmen in designer suits and glasses, and me, wearing a Joe shirt bought at Real Canadian Superstore for what I thought was a pricy $5.99.

And now, here we sit, thirty-five minutes away from our home for the next 10 ½ months, enjoying coffee so strong and dark it makes Starbucks seem like a diner in Main Centre, Saskatchewan and flying over the French coast, enjoying the view of the Atlantic from the other side of the globe.

¡Adios!

Ontario is My New Home

(post written by Charlie)

Hello family, friends, and crazy blog addicts searching through the random blogosphere—

It is very important for me to point your attention first to the parentheses at the top of this entry so that you can be sure to understand that Becky is not responsible for anything I say in this, or any other, blog entry.  Having an audience that might even be as large as five people, I cannot whole-heartedly commit to the truth and nothing but because, for me, embellishment is often more enjoyable.  When talking in such hyperbolic states, I will endeavour to make it clear enough when I am indeed exaggerating.

The Goods:

Becky and I are still in Burlington, Ontario.  While I hold a small amount of affection for Burlington in my heart, being that it is the birthplace of my sweetheart, I can say without any reservation that it is most certainly not Madrid. 

Wednesday—the day our flights were booked for—was a discouraging and disheartening day.

We are itching.  I've been feeling the itch for weeks.  We've had our time to rest and recuperate; now, we rest and recuperate some more.  It could be God teaching us to be patient—the things of God are always worth waiting for.  I don't know how good of an intern I'll be if I'm Simeon's age but I understand the need for patience.  It could be bureaucratic nonsense.  Western Europe isn't exactly the hardest working place on the planet, particularly in the warm summer months, when the ocean is just close enough to drive, and just far enough away to forget about the office.  It could just be, the way it is.

So we have found contentment in one another and have chosen to take it one day at a time.  The ladies working at the Spanish Consulate in Toronto are on a first name basis with Becky and have been very kind to us.  We continue to call, and will continue to call, until we board a plane.

The Periphery:

Our two weeks in Ontario have been fun.  We've done some things we normally wouldn't do and have had quality time with friends and family.

Our first week, we got to go to a Toronto Blue Jays game. Although I don't really care for baseball, or any team from Toronto, I cheered with all of my might against their opponents, the Yankees.  I hate the Yankees.  I hate them because a good portion of my extended family loves them to the point that simply by reading the words on my blog, "I hate the Yankees," they'll be fired up.  It might even fire them up more than when I said, in jest, that "Hilary would make a good president." No, nothing fires them up that much.  We had a fantastic time with our friends, The Synchyshyns, who were visiting from Edmonton, trying on hats, visiting Toronto hot spots, and watching the Yankees get annihilated.  Yes,  I said annihilated.

Another very fun day was spent sailing with Becky's mom, Susan, step-dad, Andy, and twin brother, Jeremy.  We embarked from Hamilton Bay—certainly not the most beautiful bay in Canada, or Ontario, or even the GTA—and passed Stelco, made it through the bridge, and began sailing in the most torrential and devastating winds Ontario has seen in decades.  I mean, there were times where we sailing at speeds of 1, maybe even 2 knots. Waves were crashing down around us and the rain made it nearly impossible to see.  After our mast was struck by lightning, I felt the worst must certainly be over.  As it turns out, there are sharks in Lake Ontario and now Becky's twin brother is missing three fingers on his left hand, and his entire right leg.  Becky missed most of the adventure since she was a little seasick and decided to stay in the cabin as the weather turned.  In hindsight, she made the wise decision that Jeremy will now wish he had made for the rest of life.  To see the entire encounter lived out on film, view the above gallery "Sailing"—be warned that it is not for the faint of heart.

And finally, we went hiking...in Burlington...it's hard for me to believe too! But there is actually quite a nice forest and an escarpment to hike in and enjoy. The uphill portion of the hike ended quite soon after it began but the views and scenery were really stunning, and coming from a Vancouverite, that statement means a lot more than someone from here, or Saskatchewan or something.  I avoided major injuries and death, which should make my family happy as I have difficulty walking on sand and ice without shattering my foot or destroying the shape of my nose.

Well folks, thanks for reading.  Most of you probably never made it down this far, and I can't exactly blame you.  I'll try to update more than once every month so I don't have to unleash on you the thoughts and events of my life in such a voluminous way.