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Monday, February 25, 2002 Went to see a film yesterday in a theater over by la Plaza de España, an area that's actually a hotbed of theaters showing films from other countries in what's called voz original (original voice) –- undubbed, in the original language with Spanish subtitles. Great practice for someone learning Spanish -- the subtitles generally change fast enough that if your attention lapses you'll miss dialogue. Meaning you must be on your toes. It feels like a major achievement for me to take in films from France, China, Germany, Sweden in the original tongue with only Spanish subtitles to rely on. The Metro I use to get to la Plaza de España is line 10, the one that takes the most work to reach of the all the Metro lines here. Mainly because it's so far underground that it takes anywhere from four to six long, long escalators to get down there –- with the occasional hike from one escalator to the next. You're well below the planet's crust when you're riding la linea 10, almost as if when they started digging the bugger they had so much fun playing in the dirt that they didn't come to their senses until they were halfway to the Earth's core. By then it was too late to do anything but lay track and order a horde of escalators, hoping nobody would notice the faint acrid odor of magma. Black market vendors are extremely common in the subways here, dealing in CDs, sunglasses, scarves, wallets, handbags, watches, mobile phones, and in one passageway between escalators on the way down to Linea 10 at the station Tribunal there is someone who peddles Christian paraphernalia. In particular, they have framed illustrations of Very Holy Individuals which light up. There's a portrait of Jesus, Mary and Joseph in which the illustration is strategically perforated to provide a halo for each of them, and red lights mounted behind the illustration blink on and off, first providing a halo for Jesus, then for Mary, then for Joseph, one after the other, over and over and over. This, I suspect, may be the equivalent of Elvis on black velvet for the 21st century. According to news sources, the pirate CD trade here now accounts for somewhere in the neighborhood of 30% of all CDs sold in the country -- a huge enough dent in that market that great noise is now being made re: cracking down on it. In particular, the national police force (la Guardia Civil) announced this last week that they will be making a major effort to cut into the illegal CD trade and I heard something on the news this morning about a raid on a manufacturing site. Many of the vendors are Africans –- Spain has an immense problem with illegal immigrants (from Morocco, from sub-Sahara Africa, from eastern Europe) coming up across the straits at night to the beaches in Andalucia, similar to the situation in the southwest U.S. (minus the Mediterranean, of course). The vendors are poor folk trying to make a living -– that's not a justification, just the situation. The pirate CDs generally go for around three euros, a price that attracts buyers. ***** Madrid's recent springtime temperatures seem to be settling in. There's no telling if this will turn out to be the real item or a long, pleasant tease, but it is unbelievably beautiful, bringing people out of the woodwork into warm sunlight and reasonably fresh air. Throughout these last few days, as temperatures have crept upward, I've seen folks wandering around in shirtsleeves, either due to hardy constitutions or wishful thinking running wild. Today is the first day in which one truly could go about without a coat –- anyone, not just the mildly insane. The crowds around la Plaza de Chueca just down the street from my building have grown with the rising temperatures, the plaza ringed with bodies sprawled against the buildings or standing in groups talking, often holding a drink, soaking up the sun. Pedestrian traffic at la Plaza de España, a great people-watching site, has swelled in recent days. The plaza literally teemed with people yesterday, waves of bodies in motion moving in both directions along the promenade between the two gigantic fountains. Couples, families, groups of young folk, people with dogs. Lots of younger types from Central and South America on vacation, brandishing cameras, taking shots of each other. The occasional group of Japanese tourists. The City has planted long beds of petunias and pansies there, and trees are blooming, including one entirely covered with white blossoms. There's a feeling of liberation in the air, a sense of being released from winter clothing, winter temperatures. This is why people here put up with the heat of July and August, because the spring and autumn both last for 3-4 months and are intoxicating. In three or four short weeks, hordes of American tourists will materialize. By that time, I'll be getting ready to return to the States. Time just rolls on. rws 12:11 PM [+] |