secrets....

I love the delicious little secrets that one discovers if one only takes the time to stand still...

I'm not working this week and I've had a bit more time to really stop and observe. Being the imaginative sort, I like to have theme days to inspire me and generally leave me as pleased as a kid in a cape. Example? Well, the other week I was out shopping and since I hadn't done laundry, I found myself wearing my red bikini bottoms instead of underwear(small shorts style). In the changing room, I tried on a blue t-shirt...and suddenly I was a little kid again in my Wonderwoman (now Superman) Underoos! I was so happy..and the t-shirt was only three euros, so I got it. Now Saturdays are Superman theme days.

This past Saturday, I discovered that my neighbor across the way also has a theme day on Saturday. Monday - Friday, respectable average businessman, and Saturday is the day he sits on the terrace enjoying the morning sun dressed like a cleaning lady.

.....

I live in a flat with three others...one of which I haven't met because he's on a three month holiday. The other two don't speak English...or so I thought. One of them is highly suspect because everytime I have a great difficulty and don't know the word in Spanish, she looks at me...gives me a minute and then just gives me the word as a statement. Not a question, a statement. This makes me suspect that she might actually have a very good level of English. Obviously she doesn't care to speak English and I respect that because I need to speak Spanish. The other flatmate is Mexican and really doesn't speak English...except that tonight I overheard her on the phone having a rather full conversation entirely in English!!

...realising that I had overheard her secret knowledge of the language, she now responds a little better to me and helps when I'm stuck for a word.

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Watching me watching them....

I also discovered that the favorite Sunday morning pastime is to sit on one's terrace and watch what the neighbors are doing. While I "wasn't looking", I noticed that at least three separate terraces across the street were watching me play guitar on my bed on Sunday.

It's all very strange to me to live so close to so many people after the Maldives.

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On the bus that is substituting the Metro for the month of August, there's an interesting sort of "forced intimacy" amongst strangers. Some days we're packed in like a subway in Tokyo. Something about this amazes me..I mean you're touched by strangers in ways that you would never stand for normally, but what can you do? There's no space. One such morning, I found my arm around a rather dashingly built young man because I couldn't really reach the bar above us, so I had to hold on behind him. Everyone is careful to avoid eye contact when in such close contact with strangers...it's polite. At the same moment, a small woman was completely pressed against my back so that when we attempted to move, we discovered that she was attached to my bum by means of my knitted skirt and I realised that I was helpless...she had to undo us because it was too close behind my back.

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My first night out in Madrid I ascended from the Metro to the bus stop to take the final leg of my journey home just before sunrise. I walked with the walk of someone who has been up for 25 hours (it was about 6.30am), hasn't worn shoes in two years and has been walking around in heels for about 8 hours. It wasn't the most graceful walk I've ever managed. I took in the scene at the bus stop: about 20 people waiting facing the street and a bench facing the shops. On the bench was a young man who looked more than half asleep, and in front of the shops were his friends laughing and making jokes. I thought about standing, waiting...thought better of it and sat down..ok, I semi-collapsed and was lucky not to make old man noises when I did so because the relief of sitting was so great. The young men began making jokes, "Oye! She's drunk! Ha ha..." one of the other young men suddenly stopped and said, "Oy. Me too." I closed my eyes and ignored them, pretending to be asleep. Since midnight, I'd shared one glass of wine with a friend and was therefore fully in control of my senses...but was truly exhausted. Some of their jokes were funny though and I couldn't help but laugh. They picked up on the fact that I was pretending and tried to engage me in conversation. I merely opened one eye, shook my head and then continued to pretend to sleep.

Suddenly, the zombie next to me moved quickly, turned on his side, "fluffed" my lap and lay down to sleep. My hands went up in alarm as I stared down at him, his friends froze. "Joder!" one said with alarm (f**k). They looked at me to see what I would do next and if they needed to apologise and/or rescue their friend. I was shocked...then I looked at him. Truth told he wasn't threatening or doing anything bad...he was just tired and drunk. I shrugged, patted his head and went back to my own semi-concious state. His friends went wild. "Oye! He's gay! Be careful!" I opened one eye, "Good. If he's gay, I'm alright then." They stopped for a moment, confused, did the math and realised I was right. the quietest one (the one that had said, "Oy. Me too.") asked me quietly if it was ok..."Eh, no pasa nada." (It's fine, no worries.) When the bus came, I apologised as I jumped up quickly, hoping his head didn't bounce on the bench but not really caring.

I had to laugh quietly to myself...what a weird thing! To have a stranger curl up on your lap at the bus stop at 6.30 in the morning! Further...not to mind. No harm done though. He wasn't a bad sort, just a tired and possibly drunken youth.