Monday, October 5, 2009

Defamation or Cultural Immersion?

While walking to the train station on Saturday (before provoking my deportation by relieving myself on a flagpole) I had a talk with Laura (Tufts, reminds me of Laura Kreidberg). It was a good talk.

My main concern, what am I going to ultimately get out of this experience. I want to find something important; be it a love of Spanish culture, elevated independence, a ton of photos, or perhaps something else. That short walk to the train station clarified something. Clubs, while fun, aren't Spain. Don't get me wrong, Spain is very full of clubs and very full of club life, especially Madrid, but that is no more a true view of Spain as saying the nightclubs of NYC is America. Ultimately, I am asking for a car. I am asking to drive around aimlessly. I am asking to meander through the country of Spain. I am asking to see the people live, not party.

Some may call it pretentious to shun my fuzzy memories spent in a hazy club full of Americans and Spaniards poaching drunken Americans (Ciera), but my favorite part is seeing people interact in the far too sober world of daylight.

When I make the walk in the gray morning light to the Derecho building, I see children going to school, people buying groceries, people standing in the unemployment line, life. How am I supposed to understand this place if I am sleeping off a hangover for most of it?

Sorry if I sound pretentious or whiny, just that kind of mood.