Chapter One: The First Days in Madrid or Caja, Caña y Corriendo

After a flight filled with attempts to write two papers about the state of nonprofits whilst being surrounded by screens showing the surprisingly abysmal "Iron Man 2," I was eager to explore Madrid. I arrived at the apartment, ate some corn flakes and an as-yet-unknown fruit, and promptly fell asleep in a bed that extends just far enough to meet the edges of my feet. I arose later and took a stroll through the neighborhood with the Señora before having the post-comida pre-cena snack and caña. Author's Note: The culinary rules and norms will be recounted in a later chapter. After this brief tour of the charming area, I went for a run in the nearby Parque de Roma. This run brought me to one of my first realizations about the cultural norms here - picking up your pet dog/cat/komodo dragon's excrement isn't necessary in public parks or even sidewalks.

I returned home, cheerfully exhausted from the run and ready for a relaxing shower. I entered the bathroom to find nothing but a sink, a toilet, and a rectangular plastic box. Moments of worrying about hygiene passed like years as I searched for the shower. 'Twas after these moments of desperate searching, dear reader, that I came to the horrifying conclusion - the rectangular box was the shower. Mustering what courage I had, I proceeded into the bowels of the box, expecting to be crushed in much the same way as the heroes of Star Wars are when they encounter the Death Star's trash compactor. While there was no such crushing, the box was barely large enough to contain the author. Indeed, every other movement in this box leads to bumping the wall and has caused the washing of the feet to become a thing of the past as every time such a task is attempted, I make the sudden and quite unwelcome acquaintance of the box's wall.

As I drifted off into a concussion-induced sleep five minutes later, I reflected on what a magical first day it had been.

The next few days were spent exploring Madrid and discovering the ins and outs of the Metro. I recall visiting the Plaza de España and enjoying a nice helado (frozen confection) and later dining at the fabulous Estadio Santiago Bernabéu, home to Real Madrid who have apparently won some sort of match recently. The rest of the first few days was a haze as I was never quite sure where I was and everyone was speaking spanish. Truly, I was a stranger in a strange land.