Happy Halloween!

Everyone--well, most everyone--at school today was hyped for two major reasons: one, the holiday (and the accompanying coloring, games, and CANDY), and two, the firefighters' visit.

O, the director of studies, passed around a notice during lunch yesterday. The team would be coming by around 11:30AM to do a presentation with the 3rd graders, but all were welcome to see their "exhibit" afterwards. You only had to be aware that there were going to be men in uniform and you could be assured that the female staff we're going to be on hand...to bring the kids 'round of course.

They got started a bit late, but no one minded. My three fellow female assistants (the other is male) on the opposite side of the fire engine, watching the men get everything ready, and motioning for me to come over. I grinned and shook my head, opting to stay with the masses of children that had gathered, and everyone glinting at the bright sky as the ladder zoomed up and up, past the roof. The kids went especially crazy as one firefighter, then another, hoisted himself down using the rope, doing flips on the way.

Afterwards there were many photo ops to be had, and again, I was invited to join, but again, I declined. From the sidelines, I took a photograph of my three fellow assistants posing with one of the cuter (or so one mentioned) firefighters, who would apparently later text one of my coworkers commenting on her bonita sonrisa. Needless to say, it was a pretty exciting event, albeit too cortito, as a student would later comment.

For the rest of the afternoon, my class worked on Halloween riddles and their masks. I had traced out two faces: a pumpkin and a black cat, the former of which was more popular, but the latter turning out to be much cuter. We ended the day by me doling out candy--some gummi, some creamy stuff, some gum, and M&Ms--wearing a witch hat I bought only yesterday at a 1-EUR-store (dreadfully called a chino, because they majority of its proprietors are presumably of Chinese descent). I tried to get them to say "trick or treat," but to no avail. Oh well.

Let me just say that I never knew exactly how lethal the "kids with candy" combination can get. Well, perhaps I'm exaggerating, but they kept wanting to switch, or asking for more, like ravenous baby chicks. "Let's save some for the other class!" I told my first. Seeing as how my ghost bucket is still 1/4 full, I could've easily given them more chuches, but I really worried about sugaring them up too much. I did, however, encounter a few students outside of the main entrance, waiting for their parents, so I took liberties and gave them some more. An adult called out one of them, and I was at first scared, but then she thanked me. What a relief.

Now I'm just killing time before I take tonight's overnight train to San Sebastián, where A and I barely booked a room. Our plans for Granada had fallen through, so we thought this would be a good alternative. Too bad we hadn't planned much earlier (better), because ALL of the places we looked at within our budget--from

the branch of the national youth hostel association to the 2* pension--were booked. Luckily, one place from among the many that I frantically emailed last night responded that they still had a double room available, so I sent them our info straight away. We'll see how that goes in the next post. Until then, have a great weekend, eat lots of huesos de santo and buñuelos de viento!

Fan girl

There were no more cheap tickets for Don Quixote, so A and I decided to take in a movie. 2 Days in Paris was (is) playing at Golem, and though I'd already seen it, I agreed on a second time because I respect Julie Delpy as an artist and this, her first feature-length, was funny enough.

Even with the two buses from Barrio del Pilar to Plaza de España, A and I still had time to kill at 8½, where I thumbed through photographs of Berlin, and spotted Isabel Coixet's La vida es un guión, an autobiography of sorts. A future purchase, I told myself.

I checked the time on my cellphone. The movie would be starting in 15 minutes. Stepping out across Martin de los Heros in the brisk evening air, we noticed stylish fellow movie-lovers queuing to enter their respective salas. I glanced around, a bit nervous, and what should catch my eye but a familiar nose belonging to very familiar--and beautiful, I might add--face. A black cap and very light makeup, a bomber jacket, and jeans tucked in boots, like so many a Madrileña on a casual night out with friends. A didn't understand why I was tapping her so frantically on the arm, attempting to direct her attention to the woman a mere foot away from us.

La Penélope +.

Accompanied by El Pedro.

The couple behind had noticed, too, as the woman coyly smiled to the man and referred to them as los famosos. I had an impulse to ask them if they wanted to get closer, but as A would later affirm, we were in a privileged position. Starstruck, we were as silent as lambs as the host tore our tickets and directed us to the screening room for 2 Days...downstairs. We watched the Ps head into Padre Nuestro, though A jokingly wondered whether or not we should join them, whether or not to ask where Javi and Mónica were.

Later, Pedro came down with an employee to get a drink from the vending machine--on the house, claro. I fidgeted with the copy of the movie guide I'd picked up in the lobby, A and I pretending to be as nonchalant as possible. Yes, of course, we were quite tempted to get autographs or "say 'hello'." In the end, we didn't, partially because we were too shy and partially because they were just there to chill out.

(So that's why I'm writing a blog entry.)

I recounted the sighting of my roommates upon arriving home. Apparently, it's no big deal to see Pedro, at least, on the town. My roommate went on to give me a short bio of the director, about how they are both from Ciudad Real, and how he used to see Pedro, also out and about before he was "super famous." He found it impressive that a boy from a small Spanish pueblo could rise to such great heights (i.e. Hollywood) and also remarked on Pedro's intelligence, marked by such diverse experiences. "He's seen the best...and the worst," my roommate remarked with a wistful air.

Well, no matter. However uncommon such a celebrity sighting is, suffice it to say that it was a very pleasurable moment, making for a soon-to-be oft-repeated anecdote. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll forget it almost as fast as I experienced it, just another memory.


EDIT, October 28, 8:39AM
I'm that much of a fan girl that I am actually considering buying this shirt:

Customer service

Proof of NIE appointment in hand, I was determined to open a bank account today. First, I tried the Caja Madrid around the corner from my place. After waiting for five minutes in the pago de recibos line, I followed another customer to the basement for what seemed to be personal banking. I soon got nervous and left, promising myself I would stop at the next closest branch. Eventually I ended up at one near Goya, having passed by quite a few on the way.

Only two folks were waiting, and I sat in between on an empty chair, not knowing whether or not I was in the right place, but relieved to be resting. "Están esperando?", a young woman with shoulder-length blonde hair inquired. A bit tired to respond verbally, I simply nodded my head.

It must've been 30 minutes or so before my turn came up. I hastily shuffled to the desk belonging to a distinguished-looking older man who reminded me of a slightly older and bespectacled Caetano Veloso. Noticing the sparkling wedding band on his left hand, I deduced that he might also have children in my age range, and began to be hopeful about opening an account. The tuteo began.

My appointment is not until late next month, but I suggested that it might be possible to open up an account since the actual NIE number is already on the paper. I further explained--though unnecessary--that I really needed an account in order to cash my checks from school. He agreed, on the condition that I bring/send back, within a month, that blasted autorización de no residencia, since I don't belong to the EU. Veloso look-alike also signed me up for internet banking, and more importantly,, the Carné Jóven, saving me a trip to the Youth Office. "Así puedes tirar esos documentos," indicating the application forms in my see-through folder. I beamed, partially due to the success of opening an account, but mostly for the banker's attention--kind, thoughtful, and patient.

The card, he said, will take about a week, and of course, there's still that issue of getting myself to the police station for the autorización. Tomorrow, perhaps. Now I have more contracts signed, and it's all in Spanish legalese. Another collection of papers to add to the rest, but at least I'm one step closer to settling in. I'm getting there, little by little.