Rainy evening thoughts 2007

AOG, Madrid

I haven't blogged in a while. I'm blogging today because it is raining in Madrid. And we are in June. Last year, it rained very little here, and I missed the rain a lot. This year, it has rained much more.

I live on the fourth floor of a narrow street in central Madrid. Because my window (my only window) faces the street, I can hear the sound cars make as they drive over the wet streets. I love that sound. Almost poetic. Perhaps a little trance-like too. I know it from childhood. I find it comforting. It always means cool air. I even find it romantic. I don't know what it is about rain that I find romantic. But I do.

Tonight's rain has ensured that the sounds of people having a good time on the street are not as prominent as they normally are; one of the (small) drawbacks of living in a trendy neighborhood. Sometimes, at 3 and 4 am, I can hear drunken (and not so drunken) people walking and talking down my street. They laugh, make noise. In short, in Spain, other people's right to sleep comes below your right to make a ruckuss on the street at any time of the day or night. Something of a birthright I guess.

My flat in London was in a very quiet street, and it faced on all sides unto a courtyard. If something bothered me there, it was the sound of helicopters flying overhead, or ambulances and police sirens. Same as here. But there, people are more respectful of other people's right to live in quiet.

Still, today, I welcome the rain. It helps to cool down some of my anger and anxiety. I have been told that this year, my chances of going away on holiday are nil. Zip, zilch, zero. It is not so much that mind working, I don't at all, but I do feel, for the first time, that I'm being robbed of the opportunity to go, see and experience something new. This is what really hurts. Being robbed of this chance. I love traveling. But not this year.

A week or two ago, a friend from High School back in San Antonio, wrote asking if I was going to fly over for the 20 year reunion. How many years since 1988? Yes, twenty. I told her I probably would not go, though last time it was ok. Her and I rekindled our friendship and have remained internet friends since, though I had not heard from her in about 5 or 6 years.

Her life, on paper, looks good. Though she has had her ups and downs. With some luck, we might meet up here in Madrid next year. I am in no mood to go to Texas just yet.

I do miss those texan sunsets though...

Just another thursday with rain...

AOG, Madrid

Went to Madrid University to see about a course. Huge campus. Rain. Not many street signs. Got drenched. Achieved little. Came home tired and wet.

A colleague at work poured his heart out concerning another co worker. Love was in the air, but it came to nothing. I feel for both. By the way, who died and made me cupid?

Wonderful article about Obama. Wonderful in that it talks about something, it would appear, no one is allowed to talk about...unless they are black.

Short sleeves in Winter

AOG, Madrid

Last Friday I walked to work in short sleeves with a jumper tied round my waist just in case. Winter in Madrid has been a mostly cold, as well as sunny, affair. The wearing of shades continued much as it always does year-round in this country.

No one said a word about this at the office. I think for most it was just a matter of time before the weather changed. Unlike in London, the locals think of the weather in a very matter-of-factly way.

Sunlight is somehow their birthright, and it leaves occasionally to grace other lands, before coming back home. Simple as that.

On a different note, these days Spain is enmeshed in Europe's biggest terrorist trial. I look at the accussed and wonder, really wonder, if these men, if all of these men, are members of Al Qaeda. I don't claim to know what a terrorist looks like. I suppose they look quite normal. But these men on television don't really look like they could have orchestrated the massacre of the 11 March, 2004. Maybe they did. Maybe they didn't. I suppose enough evidence has been gathered to ensure these men are there because enough reasonable doubt has been drummed up regarding their innocence or culpability. I am glad I am not the man who has to decide their innocence or otherwise. I am a mere spectator. And the show on offer somehow does not convince me of their culpability. Not yet. Maybe in the future. Perhaps as more evidence comes forward, perhaps then. But not yet.

I got back from London this morning. It was cold, raining, the usual. I arrived in Madrid to a blast of sunshine and a baking hot journey from Barajas' Terminal 4 to the underground station. Blinded and baked I descended from the bus thinking how diverse the climate can be when separated by a few kilometers. Although I was quite sleepy from having slept very little and having been up since 5 AM, the sunlight slowly took away the sleep, the tiredness, the morosity. In its place a silly bit of energy fuelled by sunlight kept me up til now.