El Ratón Pérez – The Spanish Tooth Fairy

El Raton Perez

One of the most interesting aspects of living in another country is the subtle differences.  Whether it’s the way people greet each other, or the flavor of potato chips, these are the things that make each culture unique and different from our own.  One of these small differences in Spain is the story of El Ratóncito Pérez. 

            The origins of the Spanish tooth fairy go back to the 1890’s and a sickly young prince, Alfonso XIII.  Alfonso was born after his father’s death in 1886 and thus was crown King of Spain upon his birth.  Because a young child cannot rule, his mother Queen Maria Christina was appointed Regent and ruled in place of her son.  In 1902, when Alfonso reached his sixteenth year, he assumed the crown and full control of the state.  He remained King of Spain until April 14^th, 1931 when the Second Spanish Republic was formed.  He then fled the country.  He lived out his remaining days exiled in France and eventually Rome, where he died in 1941.

            According to the story behind the creation of Ratóncito Pérez, young Prince Alfonso was a frail child and somewhat sickly.  He was also deeply bothered when he began to lose his teeth.  To assuage his fears the Queen called upon Father Luis Coloma, a popular writer of the era.  Coloma was an important figure in the Spanish Realist movement of the second half of the 19^th century.  He wrote several novels and two well regarded histories later in life.  In 1894, Coloma was contacted by the Queen and asked to write a story for the eight year-old Prince.

            Coloma set to work producing the tale of Ratón Pérez.  In the story young Prince Buby (Alfonso XIII’s nickname) loses his tooth and is visited by a small mouse.  The mouse carries a red satchel that he uses to collect all the teeth.  In their place he leaves a small amount of money.  When Buby catches the mouse in the act, Ratón Pérez agrees to take him along on his evening’s work.  During the course of the story, Pérez takes the prince to his home to meet his family (they live in a Huntley Biscuit box) and on an errand too collect a tooth in one of the poorer areas of town.  Here the story takes on a moral message as the prince sees the miseries of the poor and understands that he must do more for the people of his country.  Coloma’s decidedly political slant shouldn’t have come as a surprise to the Queen as one of his most successful novels, titled Pequeñeces (Trivialities), is a critique of high Madrid Society in the years before the Bourbon Restoration.

            Regardless of its political slant, what really stuck with children was the image of the small mouse collecting their teeth and the details of his life.  In the story, Pérez is described as living in his biscuit box at Calle Arenal #8, just off of Puerta del Sol in Madrid.  Sol is Madrid’s Times Square, and Calle Arenal a busy pedestrian only shopping street. Further details tell us that the mouse’s residence was in the back of Prast’s Confectionary store.  For many years there was indeed a confectionery store located at this site.

            Today, the confectionery store is gone, and #8 is a small shopping arcade with a DVD store, a video game store, and a travel agency.  Although the arcade no longer holds the sweet smell of a confectioner, it does commemorate Spain’s tooth collecting little mouse with a plaque, a small statue, several story boards.  In the upper level  there is also a small museum and gift shop.

Douglas and Benjamin at Calle Arenal #8

            After hearing the story of Ratón Pérez, the boys were both very excited to make a trip to Calle Arenal.  Pérez had already come to our house once for one of Benjamin’s lost teeth.  We arrived and began our visit with some pictures near Ratóncito’s statue before heading up to the museum.  Located in suite 14 and 15, you enter first through the gift shop and browse before moving into the next room where the exhibits are found.  The museum is very small only one tiny room.  After being given a diagram of the room explaining what all the exhibits were, we were joined by one of the museum’s staff.  She told us the story of Pérez and even pointed out two small mouse holes in the room where Pérez was known to make appearances from time to time.  Included in the exhibit was a dollhouse fashioned as a biscuit box, and a mailbox where children can deposit letters with their lost teeth.  The latter featured a small lit mouse hole in the bottom that had Benjamin kneeling down to take a peak.

Front of the Gift Shop on the second floor of Calle Arenal #8.

            The only setback to the museum was that the staff didn’t speak any English and therefore, the boys were left to my spotty translation to understand what she was saying.  Even so, you could see the magic come through in the boy’s eyes as they anxiously listened and followed her hand motions as she told the story and pointed out the exhibits in the room.  Overall, even with the language barrier, it was a great way for the boys and I to spend a morning.  It was also relatively inexpensive as admission to the museum was only 1 euro per person.

Close-up of statue honoring Ratoncito Perez.



El Cid’s Castle (Almonacid)

Almonacid Castle

With family in town for the past week and a half, we have had the opportunity to see much of the city and also to travel outside of Madrid for several new adventures.  One of these new adventures took us south of Toledo, roughly an hour and a half from Madrid, to the small town of Almonacid.  Almonacid is not a town you will come across in any of the major tour books.  The only reason we even knew of its existence was a small entry at the back of a guide on the city of Toledo.  It was listed as an entry for a Castle Route looping through Castile-La Mancha.

Village of Almonacid

            At first glance it should come as no surprise that this town of only 813 inhabitants fails to make any best of lists.  It is a run of the mill small Spanish town with few restaurants and no famous historical events to its credit.  The one outstanding characteristic of Almonacid is the ruins of its castle high on a ridge overlooking the town. 

Almonacid Castle (Taken just outside the outer wall)

            The Almonacid castle is an imposing structure of dark stone.  Its claim to fame was that it was once a favorite residence of Spain’s greatest military commander, El Cid.  El Cid was born Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar in a small village about six miles north of Burgos in Spain.  He first earned acclaim fighting under Sancho II.  This continued until the leader’s untimely assassination.  After his death Sancho’s brother, Alfonso VI, assumed the throne.  El Cid and Alfonso immediately clashed after the commander was part of a group that demanded that Alfonso swear an oath saying that he had nothing to do with his brother’s murder.  Rumor had circulated through the court that Alfonso had a part in the killing. 

            Even with the rocky start, El Cid acted as Alfonso’s military commander for the next seven years until the two had another falling out.  This time the dispute arose after El Cid carried out a successful, albeit an unauthorized, raid into Granada.  This appears to have been the final straw for the king.  On May 8, 1080, Alfonso VI exiled El Cid.  He then travelled through Spain as an exile before eventually settling in the Moorish City of Zaragoza.   At Zaragoza, El Cid’s talent was recognized by his former enemies and he was put into their service as a military leader.  In this position he led a Moorish army against the Christian forces of Spain winning a number of battles.

            Desperate and without another choice King Alfonso VI recalled his exiled commander allowing him almost complete freedom in leading his new army which was made up of both Christians and Moors.  With this new army, El Cid  conquered the Mediterranean city of Valencia.  Unfortunately for El Cid his victories couldn’t last forever.  After three relatively peaceful years in Valencia, he was killed by an arrow after the city fell under siege.  After his death, his wife  escaped the city with his body.  It was buried at the monastery of San Pedro de Cardeña in Castille.  Later the body was moved and placed at the center of Burgos Cathedral.

            After arriving in Almonacid, we spent the first twenty minutes just trying to find a way up to the castle.  What we eventually learned was that the castle is only accessible by foot.  There are two paths winding their way to the top of the ridge.  The easier of the two is a meandering path that switches back and forth taking probably a half an hour on foot to reach the castle.  The other option was a very steep path straight up to the castle taking only ten to fifteen minutes.  This path though is not for the weak of heart.  It was steep enough that even though I elected to go up that way, I wasn’t about to go down on the same path for fear of falling.

            Because it was late afternoon when we arrived at the castle, I was the only one that elected to make the hike to the top.  It was probably one of the best decisions I’ve made since arriving in Spain.  What I found in the castle ruins was a unique, genuine experience with Spanish history.   It’s something I’ll carry with me as a memory of this experience for the rest of my life.

View from the back side of the castle

            Arriving at the top of the ridge and at the base of the castle wall, I was greeted with beautiful panoramic views of the town and the surrounding countryside. It was also apparent from up close that the state of castle was poor.  Although the walls were largely intact, there were several large holes providing access to the inner wall and eventually the keep.

            After making a circle of the exterior wall, I entered through a gap and walked around the inner wall.  The inner wall was fascinating because of the insight it provided into the castles defenses.  Between the inner and outer walls were small indentations with room for archers to keep attackers at bay.

Small protected areas for the archers.

            From the inner wall I was able to find my way into the courtyard and eventually the castle keep. To my surprise, the keep was intact and open.  It was quite an experience to stand inside the central tower, looking up at the remains of its stone roof and imagining the history that took place there.

Castle Keep (taken from the courtyard)

            Later, to my surprise, I was joined by my five year old, Benjamin, and my father-in-Law Greg.  I was pleased to show them the castle and share the experience.  That said, I’m glad that I spent some time in the ruins alone.  It provided me with an experience I’ll always treasure.

Castle Walls from the inside looking out.

View from the base of the outer wall.

Culinary Adventures – La Casa Del Abuelo

After a nice afternoon at Parque Retiro in the heart of Madrid, the entire family decided to head over to one of Madrid’s best known restaurants for shrimp. 

            The very first Casa Del Abuelo restaurant was located on Calle Victoria and was opened in 1906.  Ironically, at the time they first opened they didn’t even serve shrimp.  The restaurant started out making fresh bread and serving sweet wine.  In this way they carried on through the the 1920’s and 1930’s when they started to specialize in sandwiches or bocadillos as they are called in Madrid.  The most popular of their bocadillos in those days were Spanish chorizo, anchovies and season pork.  At one point the restaurant was selling as many as 1500 of their sandwiches daily.

            Like many industries in Madrid, the Spanish Civil War had a significant impact on Casa Del Abuelo and its proprietor.  During the war, bread shortages all but shut down the restaurant and forced them to completely change their approach and specialty.  It was around this time that the restaurant reinvented itself, specializing in gambas (shrimp).  At first they earned their reputation on gambas a la plancha (shrimp on the grill) and later with gambas al ajillo (shrimp cooked in garlic).  Much like the success they experienced with their bocadillos, the shrimp at Casa Abuelo began to sell in record numbers.  In one day alone they once sold 675 lbs. of shrimp. 

            Today La Casa Del Abuelo continues to be known for their grilled shrimp, shrimp in garlic, and even shrimp croquetas (croquettes).  The restaurant is operated by the same family, now in its fourth generation and is one of only twelve restaurants in Madrid that have been in operation continuously for over 100 years.  They have also expanded over the years to operate in three different locations.  The original location is on Calle Victoria, a second location is on Calle Nuñez de Arce, and the most recent is in the posh neighborhood of Salamanca on Calle Goya. 

            For our experience at Casa Abuelo, we went to the location on Calle Nuñez de Arce.  It is located just off the Plaza de Santa Ana.  Like many of the restaurants in the area, it is small and narrow with a bar on one side and a single row of tables on the other.  The decoration is simple with dark wood paneling throughout. 

Interior of La Casa Del Abuelo

           For our Sunday dinner we chose to order several dishes and share them as a family.  We had the gambas a la plancha, gambas al ajillo, a calamari bocadillo, and a salad.  The salad was simple and fresh with tomatoes, iceberg lettuce, onions, and topped with delicious tuna.  Although they brought out oil and vingar, we elected to eat the salad with only the oil from the tuna as dressing.  It was delicious and very refreshing after a hot day in the park. 

My oldest son, who can be a picky eater, ordered the calamari bocadillo.  Ironically, even being picky with his food, he loves Calamari (fried squid).  His sandwich was average.  It was better than any calamari that you would get in Ohio, but not up to par with the quality you come to expect in Madrid.   

The family also shared six gambas a la plancha (grilled shrimp).  Although they refer to them as grilled, they actually remind you more of a pan fried or seared shrimp.  They are not cooked over an open flame, but are cooked with garlic.  The shrimp were very good, but there is a catch.  Unlike in the United States where shrimp always come shelled, that is very uncommon in Spain. Shrimp here are served in the shell with the heads still on.  This gets even more complicated when you consider that the Spanish don’t eat much with their hands.  Shelling shrimp with a knife and fork is a difficult endeavor and a skill I have yet to master.

Gambas al Ajillo

While everything we had at Casa Del Abuelo was good, the real shining star was the gambas al ajillo (shrimp in garlic).  The shrimp are served in a small crock, sizzling hot.  Smaller than their grilled shrimp, those they use for the gambas al ajillo are shelled and are very flavorful.  They cook in a generous amount of butter, garlic, and a little oil.  How can you go wrong with garlic butter shrimp?  As is custom here,  the whole meal is complemented by fresh bread.

La Casa Del Abuelo is an important part of Madrid’s culinary history and a great place for some of the city’s best shrimp.  No trip to Madrid would be complete without a visit here.

Another Photo of the Interior of la Casa Del Abuelo

Taking a Ride on the Teleferico

Douglas and Benjamin ready for their trip on the Teleferico

After three long weeks exiled in the United States, I’m happy to report that our family has finally been reunited in Madrid.  The last few weeks have been difficult, with delays in the VISA process and the loss of a dear family member.  Even so, I’m excited for the summer months to come and the opportunity to spend more time with the kids.  Of course I’m also excited by the chance to see more of Madrid.  Because the next few months will be spent with the “little guys”, this blog will take on a little more wholesome appearance.  For those of you looking for something more adventurous, I’m sure fall will bring a return to normalcy (i.e. the search for exotic alcohol, bizarre foods, and curious attractions).

View of the Teleferico with the Madrid skyline in the background.

            With a distinctly family feel, my first excursion into the city with the boys took us to the Teleferico Madrid.  The Teleferico is a cable car line that stretches into Madrid’s Casa de Campo.  Casa de Campo is referred to by tourist books as Madrid’s “green lung”.  It is the largest park in the city.  Located on the western side of town near the Palacio Real, its proximity to the palace shouldn’t come as a surprise.  Like several other major European parks it was once the exclusive hunting grounds of royalty.  Unlike many other urban parks in Europe, the Casa de Campo is not well developed as a pristine, manicured park.  For that type of an urban oasis, one has to travel to the opposite side of the city to Parque Retiro.  One plus of Casa de Campo is its size. This allows it to provide a home for both the Madrid Zoo and Parque de Attractiones (amusement park).

Crossing the Rio Manzanares on the Teleferico.

            Through the rough scrub of Casa De Campo runs the Teleferico.  It stretches 2.5 Km (1.35 miles) and deposits visitors square in the middle of the park.  From that vantage point, visitors are greeted with panoramic views of the city, Parque de Attractiones, and miles of the rough plain that remind us of what Madrid would look like without all the sprinkler systems and asphalt.  As my youngest son, Benjamin, put it “it looks like a safari Daddy.”  In truth, he’s not too far off.  Although the park is green in the spring, by early summer almost everything has turned a dusty brown.  Interspersed in this burned out wasteland are pine trees that resemble lollipops with thin trunks and rounded branches.  Running through this dry wilderness are an endless network of hiking and mountain bike trails.

            The Teleferico begins just off of Calle Pintor Rosales in the neighborhood of Arguelles, in the northwest quadrant of the city.  The roots of the Teleferico go back to September 6, 1967 when the Teleferico de Rosales Company was founded.  They contracted with Van-Roll, a Swiss company, to construct the Teleferico.  The construction work took about a year.  The first ride on the Teleferico was made on June 26, 1969 by Carlos Arias Navarro and his wife.  At the time he was the Mayor of Madrid. 

Ready for a hike in Casa de Campo.

            Admission for the ride is roughly 5 euro per person (roundtrip) for the 11 minute ride.  Some of the sites you take in during your ride are the Palacio Real, the Almudena Cathedral, and the Rio Manzanares.  The ride itself is very relaxing, and is even fairly tame for those with issues with heights.  After all, the cable car never rises higher than 40 meters (131 feet) off the ground.  At the end of the line, there are snack machines, a restaurant, and plenty of picnic tables.  We also enjoyed a little hiking before heading back to the city.



Art and Potatoes

The Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum

            One of the greatest attributes of the city of Madrid and of Spain in general, is its deep love of the arts.  Located within the city in a fairly small area are three of the best art museums in all of Europe.  Of course, the shining star of these three is the Prado which is regarded as one of the three greatest art museums in the world.  Although the Prado may get the most attention, the other two are no slouches.  The Reina Sofia is a top notch modern art museum.  Although a little avant-garde for my tastes, it is a wonderful repository of works by twentieth century artists like Picasso, Dalí, and Georges Braque. It is also home to one of the greatest Spanish paintings of all time, La Guernica.  La Guernica represents Picasso’s twisted view of the Spanish Civil War.

            The third museum in this holy trinity of art is the relatively new Thyssen-Bornemisza.  The Thyssen was formed in the early 1990’s to display one of the greatest private collections of art in the world.  Over the course of two generations, the Thyssen-Bornemisza family has collected art.  In many cases they were responsible for bringing master works back to Europe that had been relocated to the United States at the end of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth century.  Using the Great Depression in the United States, Baron Thyssen-Bornemisza de Kászon was able to raid the collections of many an American millionaire, amassing the second largest private collection in the world. The only larger collection of privately held art was owned by the British Royal family. 

            After the death of the first Baron Thyssen Bornemisza his son, also known as Baron Thyssen Bornmisza, continued to collect art and to add to the collection.  In 1981 the younger Baron married Carmen Cervera, a former Miss Spain.  Although her husband passed away in 2002, Carmen Bornemisza continues to support the museum and add to the collection.  Recently an addition was added on to the original museum in order to house over 200 paintings from Carmen Thyssen’s personal collection.  She started collecting in the mid 1980’s under the guidance of her husband. 

            To me the Thyssen-Bornemisza is the art museum to visit in Madrid if you are short on time or can only get to one of the three.  Although the Prado has the most impressive collection, it sheer immensity makes it difficult to see in one day.  In many cases the Prado holds quite a few works by each artist while the Thyssen usually has only one or two. With the Thyssen-Bornemisza, it’s kind of like ordering the captain’s platter at Red Lobster.  You don’t get a lot of any one thing, but each tasty fried morsel brings something to the meal. To put it best, it’s an art museum for people who aren’t quite sure what type of art they like.  Every room brings a new artist, a different style, or a different type of work.

            Entering the Thyssen, you begin at the reception counter where they collect your admission and have information, maps etc…   Like any larger museum in the city, maps are available in multiple languages.  Admission to the Thyssen for an adult is 8 euro, which includes the entire permanent collection and the new wing with the collection of Carmen Thyssen.  In addition they do run special exhibits which can cost more.  When I visited, they were running a special exhibition called Heroinas.  More on this later.

            Because it would be impossible to tell you about all the works in the Thyssen, I’ve decided to choose three of my favorites to share with you in this format.  The first of these is by Hans Holbein the younger.  Born in 1497 in Augsburg, Holbein is known as one of the greatest portrait artists of the 16^th century.  In 1526 he went to England, at the recommendation of Erasmus, where he was quickly brought into the humanist movement.  It was in England where he earned his great reputation.  Beginning in 1535, he became the officially portrait artist of the king.  It was in this capacity that he produced the work below.

Hans Holbein the younger Portrait of Henry VIII of England, 1534-1536

            The second picture that I saw that really stuck out to me was by the Dutch Master, Rembrandt.  Born in 1606 Rembrandt achieved early success as a portrait artist.  Throughout his life as an artist, one of Rembrandt’s favorite projects was the self portrait.  Between 1652 and 1699 alone he painted fifteen different self portraits.  The self portrait on display at the Thyssen comes prior to this period, but is no less impressive.

Rembrandt Self-Portrait, 1643

            The final painting I’d like to mention is by the artist, Thomas Gainsborough.  Gainsborough is not as well known as the other two.  Personally I had never heard of him until I read a book penned by an art dealer with a love of Gainsborough’s work.  After seeing the painting below, in person, I can understand his appreciation.  Some paintings have a way of conveying the emotions of their subjects.  You feel the pain, the happiness, the frustration.  These are the images that stand out as you enter a room.  No matter what company they are displayed alongside, they stick out.  Gainsborough’s Portrait of Sarah Buxton is one of these images.

Thomas Gainsborough Portrait of Sarah Buxton, 1776-1777

            My only complaint about the Thyssen is a personal one.  Their lone image by my favorite artist, the Italian Master, Caravaggio was being shown as part of the Heroinas special exhibit, meaning I’ll have to wait until my next visit to lay eyes upon it.  I guess this will teach me in the future to splurge on the extra admission for the special exhibit.

            After finishing my visit with modern artists like Georgia O’Keefe and Thomas Hopper I decided to head out for a considerably less sophisticated lunch at local chain restaurant, Patatas Bravas.  As you might of guessed, Patatas Bravas specializes in potatoes, not just any potatoes though.  They specialize in perfectly fried potato chunks served with a spicy red brava sauce.  Their sauce has become so popular in Madrid that they have actually begun bottling it for sale. They do for potatoes what BW3 and Quaker Steak and Lube do for chicken wings in the United States.  The branch of Patatas Bravas I went to was located just off Puerta del Sol, a ten minute walk from the Thyssen Bornemizsa, and an excellent spot to hop onto the metro for the ride home. 

Patatas Bravas

La Fiesta de San Isidro

San Isidro de Labrador

The Patron Saint of Madrid

            One of the more interesting differences between living in Europe and the United States is the public expression of religious belief.  Unlike in the United States where some churches seem almost desperate to share their message, the Catholic Church here takes a much more laid back approach.  The Church in Spain is an institution that has been around for nearly two thousand years. They don’t feel a need to prove themselves. Unlike in the United States, there is no separation of church and state and Catholicism is supported by the state.  Here there are no worries about public funded religious symbolism, “one nation under God”, or the Ten Commandments being displayed in public.  Religion, society, and government are intertwined for better or worse.

            All in all, ninety-four percent of Spaniards identify themselves as Catholic.  Despite this, fifty-four percent only admit to attending mass for weddings and funerals.  Even with their failure to attend mass on a regular basis, most Spaniards still take a great deal of pride in their traditional celebrations.  Events like Saint’s days and religious processions.  In Madrid, one of the most important days of the year is May 15^th, the celebration of Saint Isadore the Laborer.

            Isadore, or Isidro as he was known in Spain, was born in the small village of Madrid in 1070.  San Isidro spent his days working as a day laborer for Juan De Vargas, with most of his time spent behind a plow in his master’s fields.  Like all Saints, Isidro is credited with many miracles during his sixty years on Earth.  Among other things, he is said to have attended mass every morning before going out to work.  In one instance several of the other day laborers complained that Isidro was always the last to the field.  When his master went to check on Isidro one morning, instead of the laborer, he found an angel doing his plowing.  The angel was there so that Isidro could attend mass and not anger his master.  In another story, Isidro is said to have done the work of three men as he was assisted by two angels in all he did.

            Among his many credited miracles, San Isidro’s sainthood is tied to several spots in Madrid.  The first of these is San Isidro’s well, which is located on the spot of his former master’s home.  Just off the Plaza de San Andrés, the site is today the Museo de Origenes.  Originally known as the Museo de San Isidro, today’s Museo de Origenes houses a number of archaeological finds including Roman tile flooring, ancient pottery, and other items related to Madrid’s early history.  While the Museum has sought to become more than just a site to honor Isidro, the vast majority of those who visit are still looking to learn more about the Saint.

            Tucked away in the lower level of the Museum is the site of one of Isidro’s most famous miracles.  To reach San Isidro’s well, you descend a set of stairs into a small cylinder shaped room.  The walls are adorned with images of the Saint, and set directly in the center of the floor is a plain well.  The well is certainly nothing spectacular to look at.  It is somewhat deteriorated and today has been covered with plexi-glass to prevent further decay.  Descending fairly deep, the well is the site of one of Isidro’s greatest miracles.  According to the story, San Isidro’s infant son fell down the well and was drowning.  In an effort to save the young man, both Isidro and his wife Maria prayed to God for a miracle.  Before the child drowned, the laborer’s prayers were answered as the water in the well rose and Isidro was able to save his young sons life.

San Isidro's Well

            Another important site to the history of Madrid and San Isidro is the meadow named in his honor.  Today San Isidro’s meadow has been renamed El Parque De San Isidro.  It sits just outside the city near the banks of the Manzanares River.   Legend has it that during his lifetime, San Isidro spent his days here tending to his master’s fields.  Passing many a dusty day in the hot Madrid sun Isidro was often visited by his master.  One day while his master was speaking with Isidro, he complained of the lack of water to drink in the meadow.  San Isidro’s answer to his master was to ask for God’s help in satisfying his master’s thirst.  Isidro prayed to God and struck the ground with his staff.  Flowing forth from where he struck the ground was a crystal clear spring.

La Ermita de San Isidro (The Hermitage)

            Today that spring still flows at San Isidro’s meadow.  On the very site where Isidro quenched his master’s thirst there is now a hermitage, la Ermita de San isidro.  At the side of the hermitage, in an enclosed courtyard, is a pipe that flows with water from San Isidro’s spring.  This water is said to have curative powers, and several monarchs and other important figures have come to the hermitage looking for a cure to what ails them.

Entrance to the courtyard at La Ermita de San Isidro

San Isidro's Spring

            In celebration of San Isidro’s day, May 15^th, my family made the pilgrimage to San Isidro’s meadow.  This is a tradition held by many generations of Madrileños.  One of Francisco Goya’s most famous paintings depicts the meadow during the fiesta de San Isidro.

Goya's painting of San Isidro's Meadow on the Saint's Day

            Today, the fiesta resembles more of a party or county fair than it does a religious celebration.  There are booths with food, sweets, and breads.  You can buy souvenirs, t-shirts, or even pottery.  Despite the modern twist on the celebration, there are still elements that hark back to an earlier time.  Many Madrileños still come to the fiesta in traditional dress. 

Traditional Dress

            Another carryover from past times are rosaquillas.  Almost every booth has these, which are a tasty sweet shaped to resemble an American donut.  Instead of the consistency of a donut, they have a dry, flaky texture and are usually covered with sugar, meringue, or  chocolate.  Some other flavors we saw at this year’s festival were cherry, orange, and lemon.   In addition to the icing, Rosequillos are made with anis giving them a distinct flavor. 

Merigue Rosaquillas

            Although many today travel to San Isidro’s meadow more for the party than for the Saint, there are still those who wish to remember the real meaning of the day.  To these individuals a visit to the meadow on May 15^th would be incomplete without drinking from the famous spring that makes the spot special.  Our family sought out the genuine experience as we joined the line that formed, winding from the courtyard and into the street, well away from the hermitage.  Despite the length of the line, we soon found ourselves in the courtyard and looking at the spring.  Arranged in front of the pipe flowing from San Isidro’s miracle spring were men with pitchers who filled the bottles of the faithful.  For our part, we gave our offering and joined in with the locals to sip from glasses of water arranged on the table.  Afterwards we took our pictures and headed back out into the sea of people.

            Although we expect no miracles to come from sipping from San Isidro’s spring, it is experiences like this one that my family will remember long after we have left Spain and headed back to the United States. However brief, these moments open a window into the rich culture and heritage of Spain.            

            

Ben and Doug showing off their traditional Spanish caps.



9/11, 11-M, and the Death of Osama Bin Laden

Madrid's 11-M Memorial

I had originally intended to write this article a week ago.  In the wake of the United States raid that killed Osama Bin Laden, I knew I had something to say.  During the past week, that something has evolved as I’ve continued to watch the endless coverage and witnessed the world wide reaction from here in Spain.  To further try and understand, I chose last week to visit the 11-M memorial at the Atocha Train Station in Madrid.  Much like our own September 11^th disaster, the Spanish too have had their brush with the senseless violence of radical terrorist groups.

            On the morning of March 11, 2004, residents of the city of Madrid boarded the commuter trains or Cercanias as they had done many mornings previous.  Like those who arrived at work in the twin towers on September 11^th, 2001, they had no inkling that the events of that day would forever change their lives.  Unbeknownst to the victims, there were others boarding the trains that morning who had an agenda of violence.  In all, thirteen backpack bombs were carried onto the trains.  Of the thirteen, ten would be detonated by bombers, while the other three were safely detonated by the authorities.  Although not on the scale of the September 11^th attacks in the United States, the Madrid bombings left 191 innocent people dead and injured an additional 1800.  The attack was the worst ever on Spanish soil and the worst in Europe since the Lockerbie Bombing in 1988.

            With the general election in Spain only three days after the bombing, many conspiracy theories were tossed about and most agree that the bombings cost incumbent Jose Marià Aznar of the Partido Popular the election.  Immediately following the incident, Aznar speculated that the bombings were the actions of the ETA a Basque separatist group similar to the IRA in Ireland.  Aznar’s speculation cost him the election to challenger and current Prime Minister José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero. 

            Later, after a 21 month investigation, it was determined that the ETA had nothing to do with the March 11^th bombings.  Instead, the attack was determined to have been carried out by a Moroccan terrorist leading a cell that was described as Al Qaeda inspired.  Although no direct link has been found between Bin Laden or Al Qaeda and the Moroccan cell, it is impossible not to place some of the blame at their feet.

11-M Memorial (Street View)

            Today, tucked away in the Atocha Train Station, the Spanish government has constructed a monument to the victims of March 11^th, or 11-M as it is referred to here.  From above ground, the monument looks like a coffee can set amidst a traffic circle, but viewed from inside the monument is a touching tribute to the many individuals who lost their lives in the attack.  The interior of the memorial is painted a royal blue which sharply contrasts the light entering the space from above.  The effect is breathtaking.  As you near the skylight of the memorial you glimpse the touching messages scrawled in many different languages on the interior of the portal above.  Some messages are memorials, while others aim to inspire hope in the face of evil.  Coming in all languages, the text was chosen from the thousands of messages of condolence received in the days following the bombings.  These emotional messages were then inscribed on a balloon like membrane that remains inflated in the cylinder through air pressure. 

Interior of cylinder of the 11-M Memorial showing the messages of condolence.

            As I stood looking up into the messages of condolence, I was struck by how similar our experiences are as human beings.  Like many Americans I sat on my couch 9/11 and watched live as the world I lived in was forever transformed by a senseless act of cowardice.  What Osama Bin Laden took from us that day was something that may never again be restored in the United States, at least not in my lifetime.  He took our sense of security.  Much like the surprise attack by the Japanese at Pearl Harbor in 1941, we never dreamed that such destruction could be possible on our shores.  My own personal feeling though is that 9/11 was far worse than Pearl Harbor because those being attacked were not soldiers or government personnel.  They were innocent citizens doing nothing more than going about their daily business as productive members of society.  As difficult as it must be for those who have family members in the military, fire department, or police, they understand the risks that their loved ones face every day when they go to work.  The same cannot be said for an accountant who worked on the 50^th floor of one of the World Trade Center towers.

            Moving forward ten years, I found myself again glued to the computer and news channels as coverage of the raid that killed Bin Laden was broadcast.  What struck me this time was the varied reactions to the news.  Some cheered and celebrated, while others condemned the celebration of any individual’s death, and one particular asinine football player tweeted a defense of Bin Laden.  My reaction fell somewhere in the middle.  I didn’t pop a bottle of champagne and head to the streets to celebrate, but I don’t fault those who did. In New York and Washington they were touched by the attacks in ways I’ll never fully understand.

What I find myself feeling is a sense of retribution.  Retribution for all those innocent business men and women, for the accountants and stock brokers, for the police and fire fighters, the ones who went to work and never came home.  They didn’t sign up to fight in Al Qaeda’s holy war, they simply got caught in the middle.  For all of the innocent people and their families, I’m glad our government and our military kept after Bin Laden and I’m glad that even though it took ten long years, they got him.  I refuse to feel guilt for the United States ridding the world of such pure evil. 

            These are the thoughts that swirled through my head as I stood looking up into Madrid’s 11-M memorial.  Although my physical body was in Spain, my heart was back in the United States.  Although it will never heal the pain and suffering of those that lost a loved one at Ground Zero, the Pentagon, or in Pennsylvania, I hope they find a sense of comfort in knowing that justice has been served.