A most excellent weekend

Relevant facts about our weekend

1) It was 70 degrees and sunny here in Madrid (sorry, East Coast followers).

2) My parents are w/o phone or power on said East Coast. Anyone in Glastonbury who wants to stop in to check up on them would be much appreciated.

3) Our weekend was highlighted by a visit to our friends in Aranjuez. Like us, they are mathematics educators of the common-sense variety. They are also excellent cooks and have endeavored to teach us about Spanish cuisine. Here's lunch:

- Sharp Manchego cheese

- Even sharper Manchego cheese soaked (somehow) in olive oil and rosemary. Yum.

- Good ham.

- Even better ham.

- A chicken-and-rice dish that seemed to be the cousin of Paella. Yum.

- For the kids, pasta spiked with chorizo. Because everything is better with Chorizo. Everything. (Even chick peas, which was on the menu last night in the Starhill household and which, remarkably, our kids ate).

During lunch, Miguel and Nuria also apprised us of the nuances of Spanish life: why the Estados Unidos is E.E. U.U. when abbreviated (plurals are indicated in abbreviations by doubling the letter); the Spanish environmental movement (short answer: not really a big movement here, the Spanish tend not to worry too much about such things); the use of the reflexive form of the past tense of various verbs (for Jon; Heather is just happy to conjugate correctly in the present tense). Nuria also corrected Jon’s upcoming talk (in Spanish) to the faculty of the Complutense.

Another pleasure of the visit was that the day was conducted completely in Spanish. Fabulous for our vocabulary and self-confidence. Pictures to follow.

4) On Sunday morning, we went to the Rastro market. Apparently, the Rastro is the largest open-air market in Europe, taking up at least 16 square city blocks. Yesterday, owing to nice weather and the time change in Europe, it was packed to the gills. We successfully got a hat for Heather and light gloves for the kids, then fled.

But meanwhile, guess who we randomly ran into while in a small Chino (convenience store) in the Rastro? Let’s recall that we really only know three families in Madrid: Miguel and Nuria, my cousin Mary and her husband Manolo (who probably wouldn’t chance the Rastro with two 3-year-olds), and the British family downstairs. Who are out of town. If you guessed Miguel and Nuria, you guessed correctly. Our next JRME paper will be titled “The probability of running into practically the only family we know in a city of 6 million while at a market packed to the gills with thousands of Madrileños.”

5) Other bits from our weekend:

Math wars, home edition: Got in a screaming argument with Nora Saturday AM to the tune of:

Mommie: “Nora, memorize your multiplication facts. You’re doing division this week in school, and you need to know your facts.”

Nora: “No way. I can figure any multiplication fact out if I need to. Like 7 x 8 is like 14 x 4 which is like 28 x 2. Which is like (counting on fingers) 56.”

Mommie: “There’s no counting fingers in this family. Go to your room and memorize your 7’s table.”

Nora: (Sulking). “OK. But I don’t need to. I can always figure it out.“

The irony of this situation would be lost on my 31-year-old, reform-math-loving self.

Pokemon: Our children traveled all the way to Madrid to become addicted to Pokemon. Go figure. Although it does appear to be a good cold-weather activity for the older ones.

Nathan’s nose: Yes, it is broken. However, it has shrunk to its normal, adorable size, and the doctor thinks it’s on track to heal within a month.

Seth & bunnies: So Seth and I like to go running while Jon and the big kids are out at swim lessons (the kids, not Jon—he’s doing laps). One night we rounded the corner and came upon two rabbits peacefully eating grass in a park. The rabbits in parks here look suspiciously like they were once household pets – rather than gray, they come in white, black, spotted and so on. Seth’s comment, after adorably holding up two fingers to indicate that there were two creatures: “We buy those rabbits.”

Nora's comment

Nora says…

When Mommie says that I do something like, for instance saying that it’s 6-9 weeks, I was actually messed up, because I mixed up months and weeks. And I really think she should correct it.

Anyway, back to the real subject. Today in science class, we did a lot (not exactly a lot), well, actually nothing. But then we Alexandra said we had to study for our science exam, and then we had to do a worksheet for English and explain the respiratory system in our notebooks. It took me 15 minutes and my math took me 25 minutes because it’s all in Spanish and it’s really hard. But that’s part of learning Spanish.

In art class yesterday it was quite fun because we worked on a drawing that you copy from a book and you put some squares on a piece of paper and then number them, and then when you say on square 16, there’s a circle so I have to draw a circle in square 16. But the cool thing is that it becomes 10 times bigger.

Updates from this week

Here's some random information from our week:

Weather: Several of you asked about the rainstorm we mentioned in our last post. It rained. Not as hard as the weather channel predicted, but still pretty hard. Three thoughts about October rain in Madrid:

1) Drying our laundry was difficult even under dry conditions this month. The rainstorm = drying laundry in our tiny kitchen.

2) There is no equivalent of weather.com/street-level doppler radar here in Madrid (that we have found, anyway). The closest you can get, in fact, is a satellite shot of all the Iberian Peninsula. This lack of street-level radar makes dashing out between rain showers to do those errands (or exercise) impossible, because you just never know when it’s going to start pouring again. It’s like going back to the 1990s, in terms of knowledge of what’s coming your way.

3) The rain has ushered in cooler fall weather – 50s and cloudy. Heather, who was under the illusion that Madrid would be sunny and 75 all year, has been grumpy all week.

Fitting in (or not): So Jon and I have both commented on how we appear to be easily identifiable to Spaniards as non-Spanish. We don’t exactly look Spanish, we have an unusually large family (by Spanish standards) and in terms of style, we come from the lowest-10% segment of the U.S. population (academics), which in España translates into the lowest .5% of the population in terms of dress. Many people start speaking English to us practically before we open our mouths.

This (and specifically, the worst-dressed part) led to Heather purchasing a pair of jeans today. See, the boot-cut jeans that Heather just purchased from Gap this spring (thanks Gap!) are so out of style here in Spain that you don’t see any woman wearing them. They wear skinny jeans. Every. Single. Woman. Kids wear skinny jeans. Even men wear skinny jeans. So now Heather has a pair of ‘80s style skinny jeans (for twelve Euro!).

Seth’s report card: We had Seth’s parent-teacher conference this week, and found that once again, there’s a wide gulf between our child at home and our child at school. The first words out of the teacher’s mouth were that he’s “muy contento” – very happy. In fact, she used all the Spanish words for happy: contento, alegre, feliz, satisfecho. Happy, happy, happy, happy. In fact, she portrayed him as the model student: eats everything at meals (even meat!), plays nicely with others, goes potty willingly, plays with everyone in the classroom, exceedingly verbal, advanced for his age in terms of cognitive ability. The only thing that makes him sad is conflict (he runs away) and boredom; when the latter strikes, he approaches his teachers and tells them “I sad. Call my Mommie. Her name Heather.”

In part, we’re relieved to hear he’s adjusted well. But we’re also suspicious. Do pre-school teachers butter parents up by telling them their kids are fabulous? Or is it really possible that, as our kids’ teachers have all uniformly said, we’ve produced three happy Starhills who eat everything on their plate and are very smart? And if so, how is it exactly that the children who (sometimes) act like little demons at home get such glowing report cards at school?

Nathan’s nose: The rainstorm led to a slippery playground, which led to Nathan bonking his nose on the pavement. Still swollen after a couple days. We got x-rays last night, and he’ll see the doctor on Friday. Will post an update when it becomes available. We’ll also post a list of the Spanish medical fees we’ve paid so far.

Nora’s science: Nora’s science unit includes the reproductive system. She just calmly informed me that babies are formed when a sperm meets an egg, and that it takes “six to nine weeks” for a baby to mature inside the mother’s body. I wish!!!

From Nora

Today in class, we did a project about the respiratory system. (the respiratory system is how we breathe.) It included a bottle with the bottom cut off, 2 water balloons, 2 straws, and a plastic bag. BUT, of course, my balloons were too big . I brought red balloons, like my science book had.

Days 6 & 7 -- and then Jon's back!

The weekend passed pretty quietly. On Friday night there was an alarming car right beneath the kids' window -- terrified Seth and put Mommie right back in bed with him. Saturday it woke him up from his nap by alarming; we went downstairs to get its license plate number only to find the police already there towing it. Of course, they towed it only about 1/4 of a mile away to a dusty parking lot, but at least it's quieter at that distance. It was Seth's highlight of the weekend -- first thing he told Jon about when Jon arrived home.

Saturday Nora and Sara went off to the local amusement park, where they were delighted to find Nora met the height requirements for most of the rides. Nora again showed she has no fear -- went on everything. Meanwhile, the boys and I meandered around San Sebastian in the AM, and after nap took a nice walk in the park with their new scooter and balance bike.

Sunday we said goodbye to Sara (sniff) and waited for Jon to arrive home by cleaning the apartment and getting some fresh bread. After Jon came home, we went over to my cousin Mary's for a birthday party for her twins. The twins are soooo cute (blonde, fair, tall, with a sparkle in their eyes), and (miraculously) six young kids played happily with one another for a couple hours in a confined space.

Today we woke up to our first day of bad weather since we moved here. Windy and raining and, because we're close to the edge of the time zone, pitch black. The rain seems to have taken a break for the kids' walk to school, but we'll see how they fare if it starts back up by the end of the day; they walk about 20 minutes each way. We also need to figure out how to try our laundry -- dryers are uncommon here, and we are finding that the clothes don't dry well even when it's a regular fall (i.e., 65 and sunny) day. It's possible that the dryer rack will spend the winter in our kitchen.

In good news, the lice seem to be gone, and the iPhone has risen from the dead. And Jon is home!

Day 4 & 5

The Spanish word for today: Piojos. Lice. Lots of them, covering the scalp of one itchy child. Should've known -- we've been around the block with lice this past summer. Thank heavens Sara is here to run interference with the other two while I nitpicked (is that grammatically correct?) and washed sheets for almost 2 hours this afternoon.

Day 3: The terrible 3’s

The title refers not to how day 3 without Jon went (it was average) but to Seth, who seems to be headed for Terrible Threes. One of my friends once told me that she thinks kids tend to alternate good/bad years, and we’ve found it to be roughly true for our kids too, at least while they are small. Seth had a rotten period between 12-24 months (not sleeping, little self-control, into everything, wailing like a banshee, Mr. Destructo), but his behavior improved dramatically at age 2. Now, a month into age 3, he’s back at it again, except he’s a year older and wiser.

Let’s take tonight’s drama as an example. The background for this story is that Seth has to go pooh potty every night exactly 11 minutes after the start of dinner. Usually, it’s a race to see what happens first – Mommie finishing dinner, or Seth making the poop face.

The other background on this story is that Seth has been washing his hands BY HIMSELF after going potty for the last few weeks. Actually, we often find him in there, mid-hand-wash, coated with soap and happy as a clam, not ready to finish the job anytime soon. So let’s amend the above to say that he’s been “GLEEFULLY washing his hands BY HIMSELF” for the past few weeks.

For the past couple days, however, Seth’s been making a big production of NOT being able to wash his own hands. Here’s tonight’s transaction after going potty:

Me: Seth, please wash your hands.

Seth, standing on his hand-washing stool: I caaaannnn’t

Me, walking away: Seth, wash your hands and then you can finish your yogurt.

Seth: I caaaaannnnn’t. I can’t reeeeaaaach.

The wailing continues for several minutes. I hear water running but the wailing does not abate. I walk in to discover Seth actually patting the soap, but still wailing:

Seth: I caaaan’t reeaaach the soaaaap.

Me: You are touching the soap, Seth.

Seth: I caaaannn’t reaaaaaach the soaaaap.

I leave again. Seth “falls” to the floor, and begins to wail that he’s fallen and can’t get up – another recently discovered ploy. I tell him to come for a hug when he’s ready, which he does immediately. At the end of the hug, I suggest he wash his hands.

Seth: I caaaaannnn’t.

Me: Once you wash your hands, you can blow out the candles*

Seth: Oh. OK.

He then scampers into the bathroom, we hear water running, and he emerges 30 seconds later fresh and clean.

So as you can see, he’s learned toddler manipulation tactics – somewhere, somehow, I wonder exactly from whom, big sister Nora???? Luckily, Mommie still has some tricks. But he is steadily gaining on me.

*it’s Simchat Torah, lest you think we dine with candles every night.

Day 2, complete

So Day 2 is almost complete -- Seth is in bed, and big kids are studying Nora's new Torah with Sara. Nora was awarded the Torah in a school ceremony for 4th graders; it's the Torah she will study this year and would use in the future if we were to stay in Madrid. It was preceded by a Succot party, so I got to watch Nora run around like mad with the other 4th graders. She has certainly made some friends -- she's got the social gene, probably from the Star side.

Day 2, partial report for Grandparents

This is mainly for grandparents, who will find this post cute. The rest of you will think it's cloying (so be warned and stop reading!).

School pickup went well, mainly because I only have 2/3 of the Starhills (Nora is at a party) and after only moderate kvetching, Nathan is now quietly playing with his Spanish tutor. I'm mainly writing to report (quickly) about the toddlerness of my present experience. In the last 15 minutes, Seth has:

- Insisted that "I no like milk. I like leche." Seth says leche like he's from Texas: laaayyyychaaayyy.

- Insisted that I peel his snack apple, then wandered over to the pile of discarded peels and reported "Oh, I like these" -- and begun snacking on them.

More generally, the language stuff seems to be confusing him a bit. He knows that everyone here speaks Spanish, but when he sees his Hebrew teacher from school, he points at her and says "There my French teacher!!" When a sibling points out that it's a Hebrew teacher, he insists "I no learn Hebrew. I learning French."

Jon in Singapore, Day 1 (with better formatting!)

OK, OK, Jon only left at 3:30. But I'm still counting it as Day 1.

So those of you who know my husband also knows that he has a form of wanderlust, one enabled by large pots of federal education dollars supporting invitations to exotic locations. This time, it’s Singapore – he’s off for most of a week. Because beating a hasty retreat to my parents (my usual response to this situation) was not in the cards, I’m here with the kids ‘til Sunday.

On the plus side, the kids’ second cousin Sara Warren came over to help. Sara’s great with kids, and helped us out last year when we decided we’d like a moment’s peace on our Cape vacation. Here’s a picture of Sara with Seth, taken today in the park:

And here's Seth giving her a smack on the nose:

Sara’s taking a week off from her studies at Auburn to nanny for our kids (and be a bit of a tourist for the shards of time they’re in school this week). So that's the plus side.

On the minus side, our kids are particularly challenging right now. Here’s the scene before dinner:

Nathan is doing his homework in the other room and then being entertained by the heroic efforts of Sara, who has been up since the wee hours (Atlanta time) for her flight to Madrid. So that is one Starhill down.

Nora is doing her math homework – seven computation problems which ultimately take her almost an hour. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the Spanish 4^th grade curriculum skips directly from multi-digit addition (2545+345) to multi-digit multiplication (3,485 x 7), leaving out, oh, things like basic multiplication facts (which apparently kids are expected to know at the start of 4^th grade), easier multi-digit problems (e.g., 40 x 7), and so forth. So not knowing the facts or the basics of the procedure is one big problem for Nora.

The other big problem is that Nora vehemently rejects all of my attempts to explain why procedures work – those explanations, apparently, stand in the way of her executing the procedure as quickly as possible in order to go out and play. But because the multi-digit problems they are working on tonight each require extensive regrouping, and she quickly becomes entangled in the procedure, putting phantom zeroes in and writing numbers willy-nilly on top of one another.

Nora, to her credit, was mostly good-humored about the situation. I couldn’t resist teaching the partial product method—I’ve been dreaming of teaching the partial product method to my daughter for years – and Nora mostly took that in stride. But Nora also begs incessantly for help and answer checks, and I also learned how easy it is to provide the answers to one’s daughter, in hopes that the ordeal of homework will be over faster.

Meanwhile, I am trying to cook dinner. Which, as my children will tell you, never goes particularly well even on a good night, when the kitchen is cleared of Starhills. On this particular night, in addition to Nora doing her math, Seth is in and out “helping” Mommie cook, pestering Nora, rummaging around in the laundry, trash and recycling, and getting into sundry other things. Sara finally lures him away, but only by taking out the big guns: Angry Birds.

As a side note, there been a lively discussion on the Arlington parent’s list about a parent with a clingy 18^th-month-old. Most other parents responded by providing strategies (for instance, let the toddler cook, get them a really good toy to play with) and then assuring the advice-seeker that the stage goes away in a few months. I can testify, however, that it does not go away until approximately age 5. All three of my children have been Mommie-attached in the worst way – practically from giving up nursing (and thus allowing Mommie to cook) they have been either attached to my leg or screaming to be picked up, making cooking awkward and at times even unsafe. I briefly consider writing this to the parent who originally asked for advice, but finally decide it’s too depressing.

This all continues on while judeo beans simmer into a mushy mess, rice burns at the bottom of the pot, I hack an ungainly watermelon to pieces with a dull knife, and lomo (pork) is turned into an unchewable mass by over-frying. Finally, an hour after I started, I serve dinner to the masses.

Tune in tomorrow to see whether this situation gets better or worse.

Jon in Singapore: Day 1

OK, OK, Jon only left today at 3:30 PM, but I'm still counting this as Day 1.

By way of explanation -- those of you who know my husband also knows that he has a form of wanderlust, one enabled by large pots of federal education dollars supporting invitations to exotic locations. This time, it’s Singapore – he’s off for most of a week. Because beating a hasty retreat to my parents (my usual response to this situation) was not in the cards, I’m here with the kids ‘til Sunday.

On the plus side, the kids’ second cousin Sara Warren came over to help. Sara’s great with kids, and helped us out last year when we decided we’d like a moment’s peace on our Cape vacation. Here’s a picture of Sara with Seth, taken today in the park:

Right after I took this I got a great picture of Seth landing a big on on Sara's nose, but I can't get blogspot to load it. He's quite a ladies man.

Sara’s taking a week off from her studies at Auburn to nanny for our kids (and be a bit of a tourist for the shards of time they’re in school this week). So that's the plus side.

On the minus side, our kids are particularly challenging right now. Here’s the scene before dinner:

Nathan is doing his homework in the other room and then being entertained by the heroic efforts of Sara, who has been up since the wee hours (Atlanta time) for her flight to Madrid. So that is one Starhill down.

Nora is doing her math homework – seven computation problems which ultimately take her almost an hour. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the Spanish 4^th grade curriculum skips directly from multi-digit addition (2545+345) to multi-digit multiplication (3,485 x 7), leaving out, oh, things like basic multiplication facts (which apparently kids are expected to know at the start of 4^th grade), easier multi-digit problems (e.g., 40 x 7), and so forth. So not knowing the facts or the basics of the procedure is one big problem for Nora. The other big problem is that Nora vehemently rejects all of my attempts to explain why procedures work – those explanations, apparently, stand in the way of her executing the procedure as quickly as possible in order to go out and play. But because the multi-digit problems they are working on tonight each require extensive regrouping, and she quickly becomes entangled in the procedure, putting phantom zeroes in and writing the wrong numbers (remember, she doesn't know her multiplication facts) willy-nilly on top of one another.

Nora, to her credit, was mostly good-humored about the situation. I couldn’t resist teaching the partial product method—I’ve been dreaming of teaching the partial product method to my daughter for years – and Nora mostly took that in stride. But Nora also begs incessantly for help and answer checks, and I also learned how easy it is to provide the answers to one’s daughter, in hopes that the ordeal of homework will be over faster.

Meanwhile, I am trying to cook dinner. Which, as my children will tell you, never goes particularly well even on a good night, when the kitchen is cleared of Starhills. On this particular night, in addition to Nora doing her math, Seth is in and out “helping” Mommie cook, pestering Nora, rummaging around in the laundry, trash and recycling, and getting into sundry other things. Sara finally lures him away, but only by taking out the big guns: Angry Birds.

As a side note, there been a lively discussion on the Arlington parent’s list about a parent with a clingy 18^th-month-old. Most other parents responded by providing strategies (for instance, let the toddler cook, get them a really good toy to play with) and then assuring the advice-seeker that the stage goes away in a few months. I can testify, however, that it does not go away until approximately age 5. All three of my children have been Mommie-attached in the worst way – practically from giving up nursing (and thus allowing Mommie to cook) they have been either attached to my leg or screaming to be picked up, making cooking awkward and at times even unsafe. I briefly consider writing this to the parent who originally asked for advice, but I finally decide it’s too depressing.

This all continues on while judeo beans simmer into a mushy mess, rice burns at the bottom of the pot, I hack an ungainly watermelon to pieces with a dull knife, and lomo (pork) is turned into an unchewable mass by over-frying. Finally, an hour after I started, I serve dinner to the masses.

Tune in tomorrow to see whether this situation gets better or worse.

For the grandparents

Some more pictures from our trip to the beach in Valencia...

The wolf does in fact eat the pigs!

So we've bought the kids some Spanish-language storybooks along the lines of "my first trip to the doctor" and the Three Little Pigs. Both books have been fairly true to Spanish life, in their own way. In the doctor book, the M.D. takes a look in the sick kid's mouth and without further tests, prescribes antibiotics (approximately what happened last week with Seth -- although for an unbelievably low cost and extremely high convenience). And in the Three Little Pigs, the first two pigs actually die. Or more accurately, they are "gobbled up" (zamparado) by the lobo. In U.S. versions, the first two pigs rarely expire from their stupidity--mostly they are shunted off through authorial sleights of hand (in one book, by David Wiesner, the pigs actually move into 4-D space). Jon's theory goes something like "It's such a ham-based culture, no wonder they're killed off." My theory is that it says something profound about the way we choose to teach our children.

Week in Valencia

This week, thanks to more Spanish/Jewish holidays, we visited Valencia, viewing exotic species such as Emporer Penguins, a warm beach in October, and a doctor who makes house calls. Here’s some highlights.

Valencia is a pretty city located on the Mediterranean Sea. It’s Spain’s third largest, and seems to be a destination for British tourists, British college students, and British retirees. There’s a huge tourist industry there now, but historically Valencia has been a port city, with accompanying imports (fabric, we assume—see below) and exports (oranges).

We stayed in a nice but somewhat moldy (=sneezy) apartment in one of the shopping districts. This particular shopping district seemed to specialize in fabrics and high-end wedding gowns (yum!). The fabric stores – and there were tons of them – had everything from cheap cotton to gorgeous silk brocades. After two days of lobbying by Nora, we gave in and let her select a remnant (she chose leopard-print spandex) to take home. Nana, she’s bringing it to CT so you can help her learn to sew on your 1932 Singer Sewing Machine.

The shopping, more generally, was pretty unchanged from what it must’ve been like 50 years ago. In addition to fabric stores, there were glove stores, fan stores, sewing machine stores, and more. Valencia also has a large central market with meat, cheese, fruits & vegetable, and fish stalls. Jon pretty much parked himself there in the mornings and Heather finally located some excellent cheese.

Valencia has a phenomenally large complex called the “Ciudad de Arts and Sciencias” (city of arts and sciences); all the four main buildings look something like giant abstract fish. We went down to the aquarium portion for a day. It was fairly small by US standards (we recently went to the new GA aquarium, which rocks!) but did feature a dolphin show complete with “Aqua Man” –like riding of dolphins by people.

In the late afternoons, we went to the beach. It was in the high 80s, so the kids got to swim and dig in the sand. All in all, they did pretty well for having only one towel and no beach toys whatsoever. Here’s some pictures:

(Seth is in the no-way-I'm-letting-you-take-my-picture phase -- thus the shot of him fleeing).

Finally, Seth had been complaining of a head and earache since last weekend. Mostly he hadn’t needed ibuprofen, but by Thursday night he was up quite a lot; Mommie spent parts of the night being breathed upon and clutched by him in bed. Seth's comment on the experience when he woke up Friday, delivered with utmost seriousness: "Let's do that again. Every night. OK Mommie?"

Jon called the doctor Friday and found, much to his surprise, that the doctor in Valencia makes house calls. For $100 (reimbursable by insurance) one came and prescribed a whole array of medications – antibiotics, decongestant, and something to alleviate the stomach issues that come with the antibiotics. Seth woke up Saturday and reported that “My ear feel better. Not all better. Just better.”

In other news….

1) Nathan’s proven himself to be a champion eater. He’s willing to try almost anything, and in a 24-hour period quaffed down calamari, whole baby squid, green beans and couscous, half a jar of olives, black pudding, a feta wrap and paella. The only rejection so far has been the local drink – Horchata – on account of being too sweet. We have started to call him “Grampy” after my father who’s pretty much got the same eating habits.

2) Heather discovered that cabbies make easy marks for practicing her Spanish.

Things that surprise us about Spain

[Somewhat in chronological order]

1) Spanish businessmen in three-piece suits + briefcases speeding down the highways…on their Ducatis.

2) Sex and the City is shown uncensored on Spanish TV.

3) On the “Divinity Channel.”

4) On the channels on either side of Divinity, there are psychics taking live calls.

5) When Charlotte gets married on S&TC, they translate “Mazel Tov” as “Something Jews say to one another to mean good luck.”

6) Spanish pharmacies will sell you whatever you claim to need, sans prescription (if you’re not faint of stomach, google “pinworms” and imagine getting medicine for that without a prescription in the US)

7) Beer at lunch.

8) Beer is cheaper than Diet Coke and coffee at lunch.

9) Beer is the same price as water at lunch.

10) The kids have a day off from school to celebrate Columbus discovering America.

11) Despite going to a Jewish school, they also get the day off for the Immaculate Conception. Which, by the way, is roughly 3 weeks before Christmas.

12) Said Jewish school is guarded by two guys who look like they’re fresh out of the Mossad.

13) Who hand-search every vehicle entering the premises.

14) And operate the 2-ton gate that shields the school from the terrorists who live in the Beverly Hills section of Madrid.

15) Speaking to Spanish telemarketers is a joy – in fact, we keep them on the phone as long as possible in order to practice our Spanish.

16) Six hours to work before the east coast wakes up.

17) For the first time in 15 years, I am unmotivated to work.

Backhoes are boring

While Jon and the big kids were out gallivanting around Spain, Seth and I stuck closer to home. I figured “why spend a couple hundred Euro to go to Salamanca when all Seth’d want to do is watch backhoes and we have them for free here in Alcobendas?”

As some background, Seth has had an obsession with backhoes for the last 24 months. While in Arlington, I often plan my jogging routes around the location of construction sites and roadwork (made easier this summer after the town finally decided to fix the gas leak that’s made our neighborhood/park/school whiffy for the past several years). I’ve also been known, while caring for him on his days off from school, to bring my iPhone and conduct business while he’s gazing at backhoes. Seriously, he can watch for almost an hour without growing tired of it.

However, since moving Seth has gone to school five days a week, leaving precious little time to view backhoes. So we look forward to Jewish holidays because they give us an opportunity to get out and check around Alcobendas for construction sites.

The morning of Yom Kippur, however, Seth woke and practically the first words out of his mouth were “Backhoes are boring.” He also rejected his velour “lovey shirt” – called this because he will often stroke the shirt and say “This shirt loooove me.” The end of an era. The end of this particular era left us 48 hours to kill.

So we just spent Friday meandering around San Sebastian and la Moraleja, enjoying the “fall” (low 70s) weather and stopping at a yummy cafeteria for pork sandwich (yes, I know it was Yom Kippur! Sorry!) lunch. We also visited every park we saw, even hopping off our $1.50 bus tour of la Moraleja at a park down in that section of Alcobendas.

As I’ve mentioned to some of you, la Moraleja is the Beverly Hills of Madrid. Here’s my observations of life at this park at 6 PM on a Friday:

- 2 French mothers, dressed to kill

- 6 nannies, most likely hailing from Central/South America, dressed in work scrubs (many nannies here wear uniforms)

- 1 long-haired Spanish-Asian man with a gorgeous tattoo, caring for three blonde kids

- Roughly 15 other blonde children

o Girls in pinafore dresses or school skirts

o Boys in shorts and collared shirts

I fit right in in my 15-year-old ripped shirt and accidentally-bleached-while-cleaning-the-tub shorts. Europeans seem adept at interpreting my clothing habits as “Badly dressed, thus American.” Often, folks will just start speaking English to me even before I open my mouth. The dress-up is actually even worse at the kids’ school (also in la Moraleja), where many of the Moms apparently get their hair done and don sheaths and pumps in order to pick up their kids from school.

On Saturday, we had to cancel a planned visit with the cousins because Seth woke up with a fever. He seems mostly better today.

As Jon mentioned, the kids are speaking more and more Spanish now. I got chewed out by Nora at lunch for using “sus” instead of “tus,” and Seth took it upon himself to quiz Nathan in how to say certain Spanish words.

Finally, a picture of Seth in “handsocks” – all the rage in the Starhill household. It's entirely logical. If you need socks for your feet, why not for your hands?

Spanish touring and the High Holidays

Nora, Nathan, and I went on a short overnight touring adventure this weekend to Salamanca and had a great time. We got up early on Friday (no school), took a bus to Plaza de Castilla, took the 5 minute walk over to the Charmartin train station, and then took the 2.5 hour train ride to Salamanca.

(A short digression: In Spanish, instead of saying “take” the train, you can say, “we caught” or “nosotros cogimos” the train. When I was writing the previous sentence, I found myself writing “we caught the train” instead of “we took the train”. This seems to be happening more and more – where my thinking about Spanish is influencing the way that I write and speak English. As another example, when in a restaurant and ordering a drink, in English we might say “I’ll have” water or a beer.  In Spanish, one might say “Yo tomo” water or beer, where “tomo” means I’ll take. So in English, I find myself saying, "I'll take" instead of "I'll have." Finally, I’ve also noticed that we refer to lots of different foods by their Spanish name instead of their English name, including pipas (sunflower seeds, a popular snack here), chorizo, leche (milk; Seth says “Quiero more leche.”), and pan.)

Salamanca is a beautiful city. Back before there was an America, the university in Salamanca (which was founded in the 13th century and which was at its height in the 15th and 16th centuries) was one of the most important universities in the world. There are lots of interesting old buildings, churches, and streets to explore. The Plaza Mayor in Salamanca is gorgeous, especially when it is lit up at night. The kids enjoyed searching for the frog in a famous building facade at the university. (This is one of those wonderful university traditions, similar to not stepping on the “M” on the Michigan Diag, not stepping through the gates at Brown, rubbing John Harvard’s foot, etc. Supposedly, if one can find the frog without assistance, one gets good luck and also, some believe, will be married within a year. None of us found the frog without help, but we did find it!) We also found and ate at a wonderful vegetarian restaurant – not a common site in Spain. Our hotel was lovely - perfect for the 3 of us for a night. We took the train back on Saturday – it was a very fun overnighter.

Needless to say, we have not done much for the Jewish high holidays this year. (I think this is the first year since I graduated from college that I haven’t fasted on Yom Kippur.) We have had a lot of time off from school (either a perk or a drawback, depending on one’s perspective, of attending a Jewish school). For the four weeks beginning on Sept 26, we only have 3 or 4 school days per week, as a result of various Jewish holidays. Certainly we could have found a temple to attend, but we are viewing these days off as an opportunity to explore Spain. It seems like the chance to spend time together, taking advantage of the unique environment we are in, is an appropriate way to celebrate the New Year.

This week we have 3 days off for Sukkot. All 5 of us are getting on the AVE train (this is Spain’s ‘bullet’ train) and going east to the Mediterranean coast – Valencia. A drive that would normally take 4 or so hours will only take 1.5 hours on the train. We have rented an apartment for 3 nights there and are looking forward to exploring the city a bit as well as sticking our feet in the Mediterranean. (The last time Heather and I saw the Mediterranean was 10 years ago on our honeymoon.)

Finally, here is a picture I just snapped of Nora with two of her friends from the apartment building. Flo (left) is a tad older than Nora, and her sister Bella (middle) is a tad younger – they are from the UK. These three gals are the nucleus of the girl group in our urbanizacion. 

Weekend report 10/2/11

So this weekend was a loooong one, thanks to Rosh Hashanah. We started it off by dividing and conquering the kids -- on Thursday, Jon took the big ones to the big museum in Madrid (successfully! They don't hate art!) and I (HCH) took Seth to see backhoes in the 'hood and then around in his stroller to do errands.

On Friday, we rented a car and drove up to Segovia, a city to the northwest of Madrid. The city boasts an enormous Roman aqueduct, a beautiful cathedral, and a palace reputed to be the inspiration for Walt Disney's. Jon and the big kids climbed up 152 steps to the top of the tower to see, as Nathan reports, "A really good view, you know." Heather had a panic attack at the thought of shlepping a backpack full of water and huge toddler up the steep spiral staircase, and stayed at the bottom to collect chestnuts with Seth. Nathan reports that he was a little freaked out by the moat around the castle, which was in fact several stories deep with mud along the bottom. Who knew moats were for real?

On the way back from Segovia, we drove through the mountains north of Madrid -- very beautiful. A lot of the landscape reminded us of the southwest, especially Joshua Tree and New Mexico.

On Saturday we retained said rental car (imagine a Hyundai hatchback stuffed with Starhills) and went out to El Escorial, home of a monastery/palace/burialground for Spanish royalty. I didn't get the full history because I was shepherding a grouchy toddler ("I can't walk! I can't walk!") through gallery after gallery of 16th-century paintings of the crucifixion--the perfect Rosh Hashanah activity. The burial rooms were indeed impressive, with lots of marble and gold. Lunch, dictated by Nora's never-ending quest for hamburgers and thus "American" grill restaurants, less so. A quick visit to the non-feverish toddler cousin (Liam) and some intelligence from my cousin (Mary) re: Spanish lifestyles, and we were back home. Well, except for Jon and Seth who left to return the rental car and had a 90-minute bus adventure. And Nora, who got asked to go see Phineas and Ferb (in Spanish) by one of her school friends.

Today was fairly quiet, spent cleaning and then downstairs with the UN crowd. There has been an addition of several new French kids, tipping the balance in favor of that language; two new Spanish boys, however, seem promising in terms of providing Nathan some soccer buddies. Seth has finally learned how to ride his balance bike fast -- fast enough to keep up with the big kids, whom he follows around religiously and very seriously emulates.