New Friends

Madrid, Spain

I'm currently at an internet cafe in Madrid as it gently hails outside. I arrived this morning on a night train from Portugal. I leave in a few hours for Algeciras in the South of Spain. I have spent the past few days in Porto, Portugal. I spent the first two days there sleeping and planning the rest of my trip. My couchsurfing host let me just do my thing at her place. Then she left town Friday morning, so I moved on to another host. I spent the next two days with my second host's housemates, a sweet Spanish girl who frequently smoked and one night wore a green gem under each eye, named Ainara and a lovely and attractive Brazilian couple, Sophia and Gabriel. We had a great time and we really connected. The first night, we went to a bar where there were free moldy chestnuts and neverending boxed wine. People were singing kareoke to classic Portugese songs and a little boy sang a Spanish song entitled, "Tengo la camisa negra." The following night we wandered around from one bar to another and eventually returned to the first one we were at and proceeded to play pool for the next four hours, with the occasional dancing interlude. It was a lot of fun, and when we decided to leave at around 5 AM, I was somehow no longer sleepy. (It's strange to be in a foreign country and all of a sudden, Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn," starts up on the radio as it has just now, and I'm flooded with a faint sense of nostalgia and comfort.) Ainara and I sat in the kitchen after we returned from the bar. She sliced and ate an apple. A few times on this trip, that moment included, I thought about meeting that person again down the road, ten, twenty years from now and how awesome it will be to remember that time we, for example, sat in a kitchen in Porto at five in the morning while one of us ate an apple and we were young and full of dreams we had yet to accomplish. Yesterday I slept in. We strolled to a grocery store and after much belaboring about what Gabriel would and wouldn't eat, we bought a bunch of food (for less than 8 Euros) and continued on to their friend, Miraldo's house. On the way, we walked through the oldest public park in Porto, and quite possibly Portugal. There were about twenty old men huddled around a small card table with four guys shuffling and dealing cards. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to pull out my video camera and shoot some video, capturing the curious glances at first and then the irritated scowls as I continued to record them. I must declare that Portugal has some of the cutest old people I have ever seen. I just wanted to go on record saying that. And furthermore, I think the Tourist department of Portugal should focus more on this quality in their advertisements. I think it would have a big pull. So, Ainara and Sophia prepared a delicious meal last night and we dined to melodic Dave Matthews Band floating from the speakers. I felt sad to leave my new friends. It had only been two days but it felt like it had been at least a week. I feel sad right now. I had my first train goodbye, last night as Ainara stood on the platform, and I, with my face pressed against the glass, tried to shoot some video of the farewell. As the train slowly creaked away, Ainara's waving figure disappeared from sight.
About ten years ago, I attended a summer camp in Maine. I became friends with a boy named Lorenzo from Madrid. As camp came to an end, he gave me his home address. Those were the days before email, so that was the only information I had about him. I never sent him a letter or stayed in touch. About two weeks before leaving for Europe, I wrote him a letter and included my email address. I never heard from him. I decided that since I'm here in Madrid, I had to go to the address I have and see if his family still lives there. I arrived there, fortunately they live on the main street in Madrid, and after speaking through the intercom for a couple minutes to a woman, who I presumed was his mother, I eventually was invited up. I was greeted by a tiny woman who offered me coffee. Now, in Granada, my host family there explained that to be polite you must refuse the first offer and then agree to subsequent offers. However, I did in fact want a coffee and didn't want to risk not getting another offer. So I agreed to the coffee, sort of reluctantly to maintain the idea of declining the first offer. Then she offered me bread or cake. I wanted this too, but the last thing I wanted was to be impolite. I explained what I had been told by my hosts in Granada. The lady told me to say what I wanted. And I said cake. We chatted for a bit... apparently my friend is working in Singapore at the moment and then will work in Hong Kong in January. A couple times, the woman referred to Lorenzo's mom, and I started to realize that this was not his mother. I left a note for Lorenzo. Then she provided me with a list of places I must visit when I return to Madrid in two weeks, refilled my water bottle and bid me farewell. I thanked her and left.
Now, I wanted it to be a surprise, but it's possible I might not have internet access, so I'm going to break the news now. Tomorrow morning, I will be taking a ferry across to Morocco where I will spend two weeks traveling, exploring, and documenting this uncharted region. I really have no idea of what to expect other than what a few travellers have told me about the incessant vendors. I am rather excited. It will be an another opportunity to practice restraint from buying lots of stuff. Unless I find a really cool scimitar.