A stranger walking in your skin, through the calles, the streets of this beautiful, beating town, Mardid. Women and men observe each other, every move and gesture, every smile. They look at your shoes, your hair and your eyes. I like Madrid.
Today, I became a stranger and walked through the streets of Madrid, searching for nothing. I looked around, lost and content with not mattering to anyone or anything. And the Madrilenos watched as I made my way in and out of the metro stations. I found Mueseo de Prado by accident. I followed a sign; I was bored. Then I found a movie theater, Cinema ideal and asked what I could watch at that precise hour. Death at a Funeral, an English movie. I made sure to read every subtitle line for I had come to learn. I hit the supermarket, the one I found accidentally as I was lost, looking for my house. I wanted to buy apples, but for some reason the cashier didn’t accept them. I didn’t understand what the problem was, but I assumed that, like Belgium, I probably needed to put a price sticker on the plastic bag. I wanted those apples…
Senora Fidalgo is sweet. She is a lovable lady of class. She smells good and dresses nicely. She practices speaking with me and asks if I want dinner.
In Spain, the afternoon starts after 3. One is still morning. So my breakfast is until 11, dinner at 8:30. I was served cereal, grapes, coffee, lemonade and toast today.
My room is lonely, but I like it for it is warm and cozy, warmer than my room at home. I am going to bed now…ahora estoy sueno. Right now, I am sleepy.