The Knights Who Say NIE

The Knights Who Say Ni! are a band of knights from the comedy film Monty Python and the Holy Grail, feared for the manner in which they utter the word “ni” (pronounced as knee but clipped short). As it was said in the movie, “Those who hear them seldom live to tell the tale!”

The Knights are led by a man who is approximately 12 feet tall with disproportionately short arms and reindeer antlers inserted into his helmet (played by Michael Palin standing on a ladder). The other Knights are of normal human dimensions and act as a chorus, only repeating words and phrases that the head Knight has spoken.

The Knights are to be found in a forest and demand to King Arthur that he gives them a shrubbery (a good one and not too expensive) as a payment to pass through the woods they defend, which he in the end obtains in a nearby village.

Now, today I myself had to pass the mighty Knights Who Say NIE! My knights only differed in two ways to the Monty Python ones: the way they say NIE is more open (pronounced as knee-eh) and they are located – not in any woods – but at Plaza del Campillo del Mundo Nuevo nº 3, right next to my house.

NIE in their case stands for número de identidad de extranjero and is like a social security number which every foreigner needs to obtain to work and live in Spain. In other words, it is a bureaucratic procedure with difficulties. Naturally I was afraid of the Knights Who Say NIE so I brought along a shrubbery just in case.

Upon entering the building I had to leave the shrubbery outside for security reasons. I tried to convince the doorman that I had brought it as a present for the Great Leader who was going to attend me; he was unimpressed but let me pass. This was going far too easy.

Inside I was scanning the waiting room for the 12 feet tall civil servant who was going to tell me that I didn’t fill in the correct papers and that I had to come back in two months time. I couldn’t find him or her. Instead there was just a friendly man sitting behind a desk who told me to wait just a momentito. He even offered me a biscuit which I declined.

Sure enough after five minutes I was attended by another friendly looking person who asked me to pass through to her office. I had already figured out how to say in Spanish “Sorry, the doorman didn’t let me pass with the Shrubbery, but if you let me I can go down and get it for you now.” But she never asked me the question. Alternatively she asked me where I was from and what the names of my parents were (Is your father’s name Peter Thomas or Neil…just choose one, we don’t mind!).

Within two minutes I had my NIE and I was a legal entity in Spain. I was confused. This had gone way too easy. When I left the office and stumbled down the stairs I passed the doorman and nodded hasta luego. Two seconds later I heard the doorman shout “Caballero!”. “Of course,” I thought, “They have discovered something and now I will need to hand back my newly obtained number and come back in two months.”

But this is not what the man said. He just simply communicated “Sir, your shrubbery.”

The Five Minute Interview: Eduardo Sancho Garcia

Every friday Thomasenmadrid publishes a short interview with one of the Key figures of my life here in Spain. This week its the turn of Eduardo Sancho Garcia (25) a born and raised Madrileño whose greatest passion is Atlético de Madrid..and Franz Ferdinand, well and Swedish girls too...or is it Zapatero, but the interview says his dad? I guess he just has a lot of passions.


The first time I saw Thomas was: I can’t remember the exact moment but I’m sure that it must have been in the second fortnight of August, 2004, being introduced to each other. That was the time when our Erasmus period in Stockholm got started. But the very first time I do remember talking and actually seeing him was one month later in a trip to Tallinn, Estonia, where we shared a 4-beds-cabin with 3 more guys in a cruise (don’t make any jokes about why there were more guys than beds). I could have never imagined that that drunk Dutch guy who just spoke crap about Spaniards would become such a good friend 2 years later (and living in Spain). That’s irony. Cheers for it.

My favorite place in Madrid is: Tough one. I’d say both Gran Vía street (our Broadway) and La Plaza de Oriente. But I like La Latina and its little narrow streets too, especially the ones close from La Plaza del Biombo.

Something I say too often is: “Y tal”. Empty of any meaning, it’s just a Spanish pet word that would mean something like “and so on”. Example: It was the perfect job ‘cause you do very interesting stuff, you earn well, you have a very reasonable schedule, lots of holidays…Y tal.

I am not a politician, but: I’d love politics and I think it’s a moral obligation to be interested in it, as a good citizen (and even in a selfish way, ‘cause even though you don’t care it affects you). Authorities and ourselves should be concerned in promoting good citizens in terms of civism and courtesy (you don’t live alone). In general I believe in vigorous and efficient public institutions dedicated to make our lives easier and to polish the unfair social inequalities, promoting tolerant societies sensitive to minorities and individual choices, and also a world where borders and national identities are just an anecdote. This may sound naïve but it’s my political statement (Applause).

People know me from being an Eternal student of Business Management Administration and an Intern in the financial department of Robert Bosch España , but in a truer life I would be: I wouldn’t have minded to be a very famous actor or a British mod rock star from the 60’s.

If I weren't talking to you right now I would be: Either in the school or in front of the computer (I’m a real Internet addict).

Normally, my breakfast consists of: A couple of pieces of fruit (mandarins, bananas, apples… depends on the day and season) and a huge bowl of Cola Cao (milk with chocolate).

I passionately have confidence in: My father. Courtesy and civism as a way of being and the left ideology (Am I being too deep?). Also in “Kun” Agüero and Maxi Rodríguez.

At the moment the most played on my MP3 player is: PJ Harvey’s Rid of me, Joy Division’s Transmission and Franz Ferdinand’s Michael.

In moments of weakness I: Try to remember the time of my life: My Erasmus period in Stockholm, Sweden. I’ve never been so happy in my whole life. Too bad we can’t live forever like we used to do up there. Family, friends and my own world (I’m a bit autistic) are also a good support.

I'm good at: First impressions (or at least that's what I think). Public communications. Organization. And I’ve been told I’m good writing in my mother language (Spanish).

I'm very bad at: Duty comes before leisure. Willpower. I’m lazy and hesitant.

The ideal night out is: With my friends or someone interesting (for many reasons) else. Fancy and cool pub (Bonano, Costello, La Sueca), laughs, drinks and if we’re feeling like, ending up in cool place by Gran Vía. Anyway, the company (the right one) is always crucial.

In a nutshell, my philosophy is this: “Vive y deja vivir”. Something like “live your life the way you want to, but respect other people’s choices”. I do love the quote “A veces los árboles no me dejan ver el bosque” (under pressure, sometimes trees don’t let you see the forest).

Televisión

Daily life in Spain is full of literal translations ranging from proverbs to music to television. A good example is their naming of ‘KC y su banda Sunshine’ (KC and the Sunshineband). Another one of my favorites is ‘Vigilantes de la playa’ (Baywatch) or the equally pleasing (but less exact) ‘Coche fantastico’ (Knightrider).

Like any other language Spanish has some great expressions (neatly captured in the book From Lost to the River – a fitting birthday present given to me by Carmen). Top on my list is ‘we were with few people and then Grandma had a baby’ (Eramos pocos y parió la abuela). But the list is endless: to be more battered than a gorilla’s chest (estar más zumbao que el pecho de un gorilla), to give firewood to the monkey (dar leña al mono), to cost an egg and part of the other one (costar un huevo y parte del otro) and the fabulous: to be simpler than the mechanism of a bucket (ser más simple que el mechanismo de un cubo).
What they also do is take an English word and – almost literally – run with it. The king example is the Spanish name for a homerun in the game in baseball. First of all they call the game béisbol (neither a base or a ball doesn’t exist in Spanish, more logical would be pelota or balon) which is taking the English sound and adapting it to Spanish spelling. Not to be outdone they have ‘translated’ homerun into – here it comes: Jonrón! (Which is pronounced exactly how is spelled, the Spanish way of saying Homerun!)

The reality is that due to Spanish TV I have learned to understand the language quicker. After a few months without TV we brought a television from Galicia to our new flat so my learning of comprehension can proceed once more. The other day one of my favorite movies was on television ‘Bailando con lobos’ (Dances with wolves). I have always identified myself with Kevin Costner in this movie because when I was young I fancied that when I would be older I would rather look like him. This of course turned out to be incorrect. I – in fact – look like a young Tom Cruise.

Anyway, now I admire Ltn. John Dunbar even more. It has taken me a good twelve months to come to the level of Spanish I have now. Although I am happy with the progress I have made this last year I am nowhere close to the fluency of Mr. Dunbar. The fact that this fine man made the Sioux idiom his own in just one Indian winter is mind-boggling and convinces me even more of his supremacy.

So, Spanish television, what can I say about it. One of the remaining relics from the dictatorship years are the numerous gossip programs shown on national television. Created to keep the public ignorant and quiet you can watch (and more annoyingly listen to) a panel of 5 – all too often also shouting – Spanish verbally tearing up a life of somebody famous, every single hour of the day. To gossip is to live, they say here in Spain. One of the more pleasing aspects of these programs is the lying detector sessions. Although there is a bespectacled man in a white doctor suit analyzing the answers I am not sure about the validity of these tests.

Honesty – or truth for that matter – has little to do with anything anyway. However, the other day I witnessed something I have never seen before. A gypsy man – who is rather famous for reasons I think even he doesn’t understand – managed to negotiate his way through the customary 20 questions without telling the truth one single time. What I could make out of it was that he had lent some money to his ex-wife and there were some severe disagreements. This wasn’t helped by the fact that the gypsy was making things up along the way. It – as always – of course ended in chaos when a family member of the gypsy man walked up onto the stage and threatened the poor ‘doctor’ who was analyzing the answers. You could just see him wonder ‘I must have been sick when we discussed this in acting class’.

The Five Minute Interview: Thomas Reeve

Every friday Thomasenmadrid will publish a short interview with one of the Key figures of my life here in Spain. I will vainly start with myself, but don't worry, from next week on you will be able to look deep into the hearts of those important to me.

My favorite place in Madrid is: Templo de Debod, an Egyptian temple in the centre. For a while I reckoned that it should have been given to my grandfather for his efforts in Egypt. Then I discovered it had nothing to do with him or my family. The only hope left is that he did have something to do with it, because the good man was in fact a spy working for his majesty’s services. This is something my father believes. I also love Paseo de Recoletos between Plaza de Colon and Cibeles because it is very 'turn of the century' art deco.

Something I say too often is: “Entonces…” which means something like, “so, recapping what I (or you) have just said…”. In an attempt to make people relate a short phrase to my very person I recently I have been saying "digo yo" ("that's what I say" or "that's also my opinion) a lot, with considerable succes.

I am not a politician, but: I would bring back the plan to make Madrid a port city. Someone actually tried to do this at the beginning of last century by constructing a canal between Madrid and the Atlantic although just one look at the river Manzanares makes me rather skeptical of this idea.

People know me from being an assistant project manager at SICI Dominus, but in a truer life I would be: an astronaut or a pilot. That’s odd, because I hate flying.

If I weren't talking to you right now I would be: probably in the metro. As a part-time English teacher I spend most of my time underground. I like the anonymity of being a metro-passenger. I pride myself knowing for each station I am going to where to enter the train so that when I get out I am closest to the exit.

Normally, my breakfast consists of: pine-apple juice (Carefour’s own brand), three or four Maria biscuits (again, Carefour’s) and half a carton of yoghurt (you guessed it, Carefour). Although I never have time I would like to think that I also have a tea.

I passionately have confidence in: “Kun” Aguerro, the forward of Atlético de Madrid. He will guide us towards a place in the Champions League.

At the moment the most played on my MP3 player is: Boudewijn de Groot, the Dutch Bob Dylan. My brother sent me some CD’s which I left behind and this was one of them. My choice of music is somewhat dated. I also like listening to Nino Bravo.

In moments of weakness I: think back to my Erasmus period in Stockholm. I shouldn’t do this. It actually makes me sad with melancholy.

I'm good at: Stumping people down the leg-side. Of course this is total abracadabra for non-cricketers and that’s partly why I said it, but it is true. In the game of cricket I am good at this particular aspect.

I'm very bad at: Home truths. I only recently discovered that if you go out of the house with wet hair you might get a cold. Thank God for Carmen.

The ideal night out is: For me, visiting a Flamenco performance at about nine o’clock and then heading off to a nearby bar/restaurant to have some tapas (preferably tortilla, zorza, pimientos de padron and croquetas). After that I would go to two or three bars in the old districts of Madrid, like La Latina, Lavapies or Tirso de Molina. If I feel like it I would try to find a place which stays open after three. For this I would need to go to the Gran Vía/Sol area.

In a nutshell, my philosophy is this: Life is like a sewer, what you put into it is what you get out of it. By far my favorite quote.

On Politics (Part 1): The King of Spain

Spain has – compared to the rest of Europe – an amazingly interesting recent history. If you would ask any Dutch school boy which side Spain fought on during the Second World War he would first look a bit confused and then guess “the allies?”. The poor and naive boy is not to blame for his unknowingness: this stuff is simply not taught in schools throughout Western Europe. Spain, of course, did not participate in the Second World War, but was in stead ‘neutral’. The dictator at the time – General Franco – however supported the Nazi regime morally after they had helped him gain power during the Spanish civil war (1936-1939).

The Generalissimo rained for almost 40 years before dying a natural death in 1975. Spain then entered one of its most interesting and dynamic periods in its rich history: the transition. Books and books have been written about the man and will power to transform Spain back into a democracy. As we will find out King Juan Carlos I played a major part in securing the democracy. After waiting over 30 years for Franco to hand over power he skilfully approached key political figures – lead by the charismatic Adolfo Suarez – to ensure that the healing could begin.

Ever since Spain has been a divided country for many reasons, some of which I will discuss in the following weeks. All of what you will read I have found out only this year because the fascinating (political) history of Spain is one of the best kept secretes of Europe. I will introduce the main figures of present day politics through which I hope to give you all a better idea of the situation down here in Spain. The series will start with King Juan Carlos I.

The King: Juan Carlos I
It is of course strange to start a political series with a King – who shouldn’t have too much to say on these things – but as we will see he is at the heart of modern Spain politics and many still thank him for his efforts without which there probably wouldn’t be the stability there is today.

The King is still a popular figure today. One must understand that Franco had actively restrained Juan Carlos’ grandfather Alfonso XIII and father Juan from playing any part in governing the country. Strangely enough the dictator had confidence in the young Juan Carlos to take over the rains after his death. Almost immediately after the last breath of Franco the King put into action a plan he had been thinking of for years and years: to bring back a stable and fair democracy.

Many claim that without Juan Carlos Spain would never have had the stability of today. Indeed, when a coup was intended by Antonio Tejero in 1981, it was the strength and wit of Juan Carlos and Adolfo Suarez who together stabilized the country and withheld the coup. The combined impressive images of Adolfo Suarez – who dramatically refused to take cover when the militants stormed the parliament – and the King – who after a TV blackout appeared on television to calm everybody down – ensured that Spain would not fall back into a militant regime. Both men are still loved for this. Throughout the nineties the King remained an influential figure and many still regard him as the head of state. He has more political power than the Dutch or English Queens who both fulfil a more symbolic role. However, recently he and his family have come into some stormy weather. It all started some months ago when – after some heavy republican criticism – the King had to publicly defend the authority of his throne during an address at the University of Oviedo. This was followed by the burning of his photo by a group of leftist youths, which still is an illegal act here in Spain. Two weeks ago the King and Queen controversially visited Ceuta and Melilla, the two Spanish conclaves in North Africa where they were fiercely greeted by Moroccan protesters.

This week the controversy flared up again after the King – at a summit between Latin American-Hispanic countries – told Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez to “shut up”. After Chavez refused to stop calling former Spanish prime minister ‘a fascist snake’ and continued babbling whilst current PM Zapatero was speaking, the King raised his voice and snared ‘por que no te callas?’ (why don’t you just shut uo) without using the polite form of Usted (and thus seemingly talking to a five year old). Not long after this the King walked out of the discussion in disgust.

We saw this impressive clip just before having lunch on Sunday and my first question was: “what was the King doing at this summit anyway?” I was explained that he still has influence and that many South Americans regard him as their King as well. I feel divided. For me, a monarch should have no political power because he has not been chosen by his people. However, the actions of the King has made people very proud here in Spain and I guess that if his power stays as limited as it is now I have no problems with that.

However, I am a monarchist. I believe that monarchs – present day monarchs that is – bring stability. Whenever there is political trouble a monarch can publicly speak out without being part of the political scene. This was famously the case when Queen Beatrix of Holland spoke to the nation following the murder of filmmaker Theo van Gogh by a Moroccan youth. Had the prime minister appeared on TV, or an Imam, or the leader of the opposition (which they all did), things wouldn’t have calmed down because they are politically bounded – and thus biased – to an ideology. The Queen – who doesn’t belong to the political elite – isn’t so she could reach out to all, not just the white Dutch middle class.

This is basically what Juan Carlos did all those years ago: clamed people down without branding people with a political view point. The King is the biggest ambassador of the country and was educated all his life to fulfil this role. I don’t buy the argument that he shouldn’t because he wasn’t chosen. His political power is very limited and he fulfils his symbolic power majestically. A parliamentary-monarchy is a proven system with success. When a country is in turmoil, like Holland was following the death of right wing politician Pim Fortuyn it is essential to have a non-political figure remaining as head of state. (I would like to remind the readers that 1,5 million people voted for a dead person and that therefore non-political stability is essential).

For now, it seems the King has won back admirers after his display against Chavez. These coming months there will be a lot of mud throwing between the two major political parties – the PP and PSOE – as elections are coming-up in March. Let’s hope this doesn’t lead to turmoil for the King to show his strength once again. Next week I will discuss the political right – the PP – who in my view has led miserable opposition in these last four years.

A day in the life of...me

8.12: It is 8.12 when the second of the two alarms goes off. It's the 6th of November 2007 and Carmen has already left for French class when I wake up. The radio is – as always – playing songs of Europa FM and today is nothing different. It will be a day like normal.

8.14: I get up and go to the bathroom to prepare myself for the day. My breakfast is like always: an orange juice, three or four Maria biscuits and some yoghurt. If I have time I also have a tea, but this hardly ever happens. I pack all my stuff for the day. This consists of class material, lunch which has been cooked the day before (often by Carmen) and a book to read in the metro. At the moment I am reading a Spanish book ‘El nino con el pyjama de rayas’ about a boy whose farther is sent to Auswitch…as camp commander, nice!

8.35: I leave the house and I take the small walk though Calle de Tribulete of about three minutes towards the closest metro station at Lavapies. Normally I do this walk with Carmen but she is not with me today. The street is occupied but not crowded. Many of our neighbourhood gets up even earlier to work in the more – well – unorthodox sectors.
8.38: When I arrive at Lavapies station I enter fast down the stairs, but I never have to run for the metro. The yellow line – line three – passes every two minutes in the morning so I never have to worry about missing it.

8.40: Well, that’s not completely true. Even though the metro goes very often it always goes totally packed. The next station is Sol – this is one of Madrid’s busiest stations and everybody wants to leave so stands close to the door. Today I am alone, but when I am with Carmen she sometimes politely raises her voice to the passengers to make some more space. She does this great. The people actually move!

8.57: When I enter the metro I only have one stop to make and I change at Sol to the red line – number two – heading towards La Elipa. I only have to wait four stops on this one – which takes about ten minutes before arriving at my destination: Quevedo. In total my journey to work costs me about 20 minutes. 9.00: I enter the building and say good morning to the portero (doorman). He is a grumpy man with whom I don’t think I will ever start a social relationship. The first day I turned up for work he asked me which floor I was going to. I said ‘the third’. He said ‘are you sure?’ and I replied ‘yes’. This is to date still the largest conversation we have ever had.
9.01: So there it is, the door to my new job. After scaling to the third floor – in an elevator – I turn to the left and open the door with my key. I am normally the second to enter the office. If I am the first I have to type in the safety code. I only have had to do that twice. I say hello and my workmate answers back, cheerfully. 9.02: After a small chat with my workmates - we are in total four at the moment - I turn on my computer and do a quick round of my websites: Gmail, Hotmail, AD, BBC, The Independent, Marca and various other blogs. This normally takes about ten minutes and then I click on what has become my addiction: Microsoft Outlook. Some researcher found out that an average worker clicks on the refresh button 40 times per hour and I think I am an above average worker! At the moment I have to do various things. From the moment I started I am learning all there is to the EuropeAid project cycle. From the very beginning - scanning the EU's websites for interesting projcts - to the end: the completion of a projects which can run for years with a budget of often over 3 mln Euros. At the moment I am looking for partners to form a project consortium and contacting International Experts for projects. In a couple of weeks I will start helping to write Technical Offers for projects for which we have been shortlisted.
11.17: I am starting to feel a bit hungry so I attack the bottom of my three drawers where I keep various boxes of energy bars and chocolate to keep me awake. For the moment I prefer the hazelnut bar.
12.35: I am still working on selecting the best international experts for our project in Bulgaria. It works like this: once you have succesfully applied for a project, you are shortlisted (with 8 other companies) and then you have to make a Technical Offer which includes the profiles of the International Experts you are going to contract. They play a crucial role in winning the contract so we need to make sure they are quality. 14.32: Lunchtime. Carmen prepared me a nice spaghetti yesterday. She comes home a bit earlier than me and therefore has time to prepare my lunch. So sweet she is! This one was particularly tasty: chicken, onion, oregano, spices and pesto...mmmh. Often I am joined in our big room by two of my work mates, one of whom you see in the background. I get along well with them and they are very helpful.

14.45: Today, my lunchtime wasn't very long. I had a three o'clock appointment with my boss at Hot English. Luckily, this is just around the corner so I could go during my one hour lunch break without missing any work. Every month, upon receiving my pay-check, I have to go through all my classes and explain what I am doing with them, how they are responding and if I have any difficulties. These conversations normally go rather smoothly as I am lucky with my pupils and don't have any major problems.

15.10: However, the Director of Studies is running late and is not on time for our appointment (the watch is mine and the empty chair is hers). This annoys me a bit because I am on my lunchbreak. 15.11: I make time by preparing some classes in the Teachers Room. My classes usually consist of a fine mix of grammer (preferably Murphy's English Grammar in Use), reading and listening (as supplied by Hot English) and conversation (for which I normally prepare a role play or some topics). I try to give every class some sort of theme. Last week we had celebrities and the role play was a gossip program. It was an instant success. 15.40: I arrive a bit late back to work due to the delay of my Hot English boss. I am trying to make a consortium for a project in Kazakhstan and it looks like I am in luck. Someone responded positively and I am now in talks with them to set up a consortium.17.02: My working day at SICI Dominus has finished. I work between 09.00 and 17.00. I turn of the computer, chat for a while with my boss and then I am off to my English classes. 17.04: Just across the street there is a nice café where I usually give myself some rest. Normally I go there after lunch but today I had no time because of the appointment with Hot English. I am by now a regular and don't have to ask for a café con leche, I am just given it with a nod of the head. I share my coffee with the sports newspaper AS (I prefer Marca, but they don't have that one). Today, the trainer of Real Madrid is in trouble for insisting that the referee of the other day was from Catalonia and that this was the reason of their loss against Sevilla. A rediculous remark by a man who is losing friends in Spanish football very rapidly. 17.26: I head up Calle Bravo Murillo and enter the metro station of Canal with destination a two hour class with a company called Brother. The walk between the café and this station is no more than five minutes. I notice that it is already getting a bit dark and it is certainly fresh. 17.40: There are only three stops between Canal (which is on the orange line) and Avenida de America where I am heading. Very often this man welcomes me as I arrive. He sings country and western songs with a voice which is rather tangled-up but nice to listen to. He delivers with charm and today I gave him a euro because he was signing one of my favorites, a CCR classic: Have you ever seen the rain. We exchange smiles. 17.46: This is the bus 224 that I have to take to get me to the Business Park of San Fernando de Henares which is exactly 19,3 km from Puerta del Sol in the centre of Madrid. It takes me about twenty minutes and I have to take it every Monday and Tuesday because on these days I have classes with this company. 18.05: I arrive with no delays. Normally the bus ride goes without trouble. Only once did I take the 224A (instead of the 224) which took me 10 kms further. The business park lies under the Barajas Airport flightpath and next to the busy A2 highway. Also there are various works going on inside the compound. Amazingly, we don't have any trouble with noise inside. 18.07: As I am a bit early I sit and wait outside, this happens quite often as the class only begins at 18.15. During this little wait I am called by CEAR - the NGO which defends the rights of refugees and asylum seekers in Spain. Sometimes I help them with translations or other small tasks so I assumed this would again be the case. It was. They asked me if I could be interpreter for a CEAR member at a meeting the coming Thursday. I couldn't. BUT the call didn't finish there. My CEAR boss told me that they had been very happy with me (two weeks ago I did a SOS translation of a 5 page document personally for the Secretary General of the UNCHR!) and that I had been selected as one of the four Madrid volunteers to go to the CEAR anual meeting in Las Palmas, everything paid for. Las Palmas...that's is on the Canary Islands!! So, on the weekend of the 13th of December I am off to the Canary Islands for free! It just shows that it pays of working as a volunteer! It will be fun but I'll also learn a lot as the Canary Islands is the place where most refugees arrive. 18.17: With this good news in mind I start the class. Normally we are with three students but one has called off ill. This is a pre-intermediate class which is a lot of fun. We handle the basics like present simple and continuous, past simple, questions, etc. Also we read, discuss about the weekend and have fun with vocabulary. This group is enthusiastic, like most of my students. I enjoy teaching English. 20.10: After the class finishes I have to cross the A2 to catch the bus on the other side and this is the view. As you can see one of the busses is leaving on the right hand side, but a bus stops every two minutes so no problems there. On Tuedays I am normally accompanied by one of my fellow teachers from the Academy on the way back into the centre. 20.35: I arrive back at Avenida de America where I have to take two lines to get to my final destination of Tribunal. 20.55: I arrive at Tribunal in the centre of Madrid for my second class of the day. It's only a short walk to Miguel's house. 21.01: Miguel - my student and I dare say now my friend - has what he calls 'a bachelor pad' in the centre of Madrid. He does not live there but uses it on the weekend and for English classes. Our English classes are mostly spent talking politics. I have troed many times to convince Miguel to do exercises but he refuses. Now he has to present me with a business plan every class. He admits having the memory of a fish, but he is being unfair on himself. 22.10: During the class with Miguel I was called by Eduardo if we wanted to meet him, Fred, Eva (the visiting Austrian girl...see 'this weekend we mainly...' on your left hand side) and Carmen for a drink. Miguel was not feeling too well so he declined but I opted for the five minute walk back up north to a nice bar filled with mirrors. As you can see they were having a lot of fun when I arrived.

22.35: We didn't stay too long because everyone was a bit tired. Edu and Eva had been out doing tourism which can be very tiring. Carmen had had a day at work and a French exam and Fred also had had a long day at work. So we all took the metro at Bilbao just opposite the bar. 22.50: Another short 15 minute trip with only one change in between, at Sol and we arrive back where it all started this morning: Lavapies. We head home and as we opened the door we met the president of the Corrala - our little Melrose Place. Yesterday there had been an incident which had everybody talking. A bottle of Rum had been thrown out of a window onto the central patio and then the front entrance had been kicked in, shattering glass all over. Very mysterious and the president was trying to blame our neighbours! Carmen testified that this couldn't be the case because she had heard them leave before it all happened. We were invited by the President to our first community vote, it will be on bicycles and whether you can leave them in front of your house.

23.01: I sit down for dinner. I prepare myself a salad of cheese and ham, topped with a nice vinegrette which I have to ask Carmen to prepare because I still don't know how to do it. I wash this all down with a glass of water. 23.35: As desert I have a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit which I have in bed. We moved the TV into the bedroom and watch an incredible documentary about the child smuggling affair in Chad. This is big news in Spain because the airplane crew is Spanish.00.35: The 6th of November has already finished when the documentary does. It is time to go to sleep.

Visit Cordoba and Sevilla

Two weeks ago - during the puente of Pilar - we went to Andalucia, the south of Spain and visited two cities: Cordoba and Sevilla. Both were totally different to what we had seen before here in Spain. So different that it is hard to imagine that Spain is one country. This is a political statement which I will avoid explaining for the moment but will certainly come back to in the weeks to come.

Anyway.

Cordoba is rich in history and played a key role in the Muslim occupation of Spain before the arrival of the Catholic Kings (lead primarily by Fernando and Isabel). You can still find impressive Mudejar architecture throughout this small town. Highlights were without doubt the Mosque (which was conferted into a Cathedral) and our small walk to the other side of the river which gave us great views of the town.
Sevilla is bigger and grander city than Cordoba. We stayed at a Backpackers hostel. For me this was the first time I had done this since my backpackers life in New Zealand. It reminded me how odd and strange their lifestyle actually is. Sevilla itself is beautiful and I think it is my favorite city I have visited in Spain (although Santiago and Salamanca come very close). The colours are simply everywhere and the mix of cultures impressive. The gardens of the Alcazar were my favorites, together with Plaza España with its ceramics (it had been a dream of mine to visit this site eversince seeing it on the cover of my first Spanish student book). The feel to Sevilla is just very relaxing and I can recommend everybody to visit. The fact that we also watched Jonny Wilkinson kicking the French out of the World Cup Rugby also helped.