Petty thievery

Monday night, my backpack was stolen from my side. I was a little careless and a lot unlucky, but it could have been worse. I could have lost my passport, or my wallet with all my cards. Luckily, all the thief got was a really cute backpack, a beat-up, 7yo Mac, some books and some postcards (already stamped and addressed).

After waiting in the police station for four hours, I was able to file the denuncia (police report), and go home to bed.

Petty thievery is unfortunately quite common in Madrid (especially in places where foreigners might go, and I have to admit that I was at one of those places).

I'm fairly positive that the backpack has already made its way into a city dumpster, and the computer has been wiped and scrapped for parts. But we'll see if anything comes of the police report.

I just really want to see the security cameras to know if the person who walks out the door with my backpack on their back is the one I think committed the crime. 

All-American Spanish Road Trip

Last weekend, some friends and I took a road trip to Cantabria. We stayed in a casa rural (basically a farmhouse/cabin, but nicer), and had a great time.

This trip knocked a few things off my lists of Fulbright-year goals. Cantabria is a region of Spain that I hadn't yet visited, so I got to see that, and we went to the Museo de Altamira to see prehistoric cave paintings. We explored Burgos and Santander, and got to see one of Gaudí's first houses (and one of the few that he made outside of Catalunya).

And we got to hear cows chewing cud and see lots of sheep and chickens chilling in the countryside.

I also made everyone listen to so much Kacey Musgraves and Eric Hutchinson on the way up that they demanded that we only listen to This American Life on the way back to Madrid. 

On inhabiting whiteness

Election 2016 is causing a reckoning.

I'm white. I've always been white. There was that one time as a kid where I thought I might be adopted, but that ended quickly. I still don't know what brought that phase on, but I think it had something to do with learning that there were two adopted kids in my class.

The thing with whiteness is that it's REALLY flexible. Irish, Polish, Italians, Scots-Irish, even Spaniards didn't used to be considered particularly white at certain points in American history, and now they all more or less are. I'm hoping that we can reach a point in history where whiteness no longer matters (as in, no longer has power over people), but until that time, I have to reckon with my skin color.

My way to combat this election is to figure out ways to give away my whiteness. No, I'm not flaying my own skin (and I'm also not shaving my head, though that remains as an option for future action). What does that "give-away" look like? I'm not entirely sure, but I imagine the clearest parallel is Matthew 19:21 "Go, sell your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then, come and follow me."

I am policing my own language more so as to try not to commit any microagressions. Trying to be thankful for my privilege. Supporting charities that defend marginalized groups and figuring out what more I can do. Learning to do with less so as to have more to give. Calling my congressmen and senators to voice support for bills that don't directly impact me but sure help others I love.

I've been thinking recently about what I can change so as to be able to inhabit my whiteness in ways that allow for more agency for my non-white-identifying friends and colleagues and that don't automatically reinforce structural racism. That means using "I" less and listening more. It means having patience, and grace, and hearing difficult and painful things.

One of the biggest things that I can do as an academic is to cite non-white, non-straight, non-abled academics in my work. So my dissertation is going to include a lot of them.

I'm white. I'll always be white. But now I inhabit that whiteness in horror.

Self-Care: Political Haircuts

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine on Facebook got a haircut. She lopped off her long, flowing locks in favor of a pixie cut (she might have called it a buzz cut), hoping that this sacrifice of her hair might allow her the generosity and grace to engage with the friends and family members she disagrees with during this holiday season.

And she's not the only one. Apparently, a lot of women are demonstrating how personally this election result has affected them by making some drastic changes to their hair, and some websites are mocking them for (what they claim to be) a useless political act.

Haircuts are pretty much always political, though. (See this article in the Washington Post if you're curious about how current political trends are affecting men's hair fashions).

A drastic haircut often says far more than many may claim. Sometimes haircuts don't express much-- maybe a secret desire to look and be as basic as Jennifer Aniston (see the trend of The Rachel in the 90s), or maybe just a reaction against boredom. But haircuts are always political; in the same way that clothing brand preferences and media consumption habits or even our toilet preferences reveal our deepest ideological tendencies, so does the way we wear our hair.

For women, a shaved head is a deeply political act. It's been used as a punishment since biblical times, and came back with a vengeance in the 20th century as a way to publicly humiliate women who had collaborated with "the other side" (whether that other side be German women who had collaborated with the French during the French occupation of Rhineland in the 20s, Republican women in Franco Spain, or French women who had collaborated with the Germans during the Allied liberation of France).

So for women to shave their heads is a sign that this shame or humiliation (that we are supposed to feel for working hard, for wanting more justice and freedom and rights for all in the world, for being woman) won't work on us. Voluntarily embracing the sign of punishment is a way to keep fighting--visually, not vocally. 

Pretty Holiday Decor

The one thing that I love about the holidays is how willing everybody is to decorate and dress things up a little bit--be it in lights or wreaths or garlands or bows.

I always love wandering Madrid during the holidays because of how pretty all the lights are. A metal Christmas tree fills up practically every major square, and lights criss-cross the buildings on all streets (from major-thoroughfairs to pedestrian-only ones). Here's a sample of Madrid's Christmas lights.

I really liked the Christmas well-wishes from this neighborhood (below).

But my favorite Christmas decor is always the boughs upon boughs of garland and greens that fancy florists tend to use, like this one near Alonso Martinez:

Granted, Madrid hasn't yet figured out the amazingness of dubstep Christmas light shows, but I'm sure they'll get to it eventually.

CineForo and American Sniper

The US Embassy in Madrid has a branch that does cultural outreach events, like English-only conversation classes, literature and culture classes, and an American Film Series called CineForo. This year, my friend MK has been leading the discussions surrounding CineForo, and another friend of mine, C, and I were approached to take it over in the spring.

The CineForo this year is focused on the portrayal of civil and human rights through bio-pics. They've shown films such as Selma, Boys Don't Cry, and Straight Outta Compton. Last night's film, American Sniper, was perhaps the least directly related to civil rights, and yet, the discussion was still fascinating.

People said they thought the realism of the film meant that it was critical of war. While there is a critique somewhere in the film, I don't read it so much as a critique of war. I think the realism of the film is just realism. I had a tough time watching all of the gory violence shown on the screen, as did all of the Spaniards who stayed for the discussion. But I can also see that there may be young men and women in the States who might be energized by the patriotism expressed. Who might identify with protagonist Chris Kyle and want to become like him.

The critique that I took from the film was aimed at how we in the US treat our veterans. From the lack of understanding of PTSD to the expectation and training of soldiers to function like machines (sidebar: humans are not machines), the film revealed the emotional and physical toll that we expect our veterans to somehow bear alone. And yet, it offered no solutions to what we can do as a country (other than honor our veterans) in order to avoid war.

The most interesting part of the discussion to me came when Spaniards asked about gun culture in the States. You see, the night before CineForo, Spanish TV showed a documentary about guns in Texas. Roommate C was appalled at how easily guns are available in the States. She asked me if I owned a gun (I don't), and if M2 owned a gun (nor does he). And then she thought I was lying because the documentary said that almost all Texans owned guns. She then also told me that she would never visit the US now, because she doesn't want to be anywhere where guns circulate that freely. I don't really blame her.

Regardless, gun culture in America was really present in the minds of most of the Spaniards participating, thanks to this documentary, and so what stood out to them was how prevalent guns were in the home of Chris Kyle. It's hard to explain gun culture in the States to foreigners who associate guns with violence, fascism and authoritarianism. All the arms stores that I have passed by in Spain look terrifying, but then I realize that they only sell airguns (or BB guns) and that assuages my fears. 

On White Privilege

I've been thinking a lot recently about racism, privilege and the networks of both that structured this most recent election outcome.

I've also been fascinated with the tale of R. Derek Black, a former rising star in the white nationalist (code for white supremacist) movement who renounced white nationalism and apologized for the harm he had caused by promoting this ideology as a young man.

I'm not around any white nationalists (that I know of), so Black's advice on how to approach white nationalists (here) doesn't seem particularly helpful. Black seems like a curious kid whose craving for knowledge, facts and logic allowed him to think his way out of the hatred and fear that drive white nationalism/supremacy. The world is lucky that he let himself be swayed by facts and history, rather than doubling down on what he thought he knew when confronted with opposing evidence and opinions.

What I can do to interact healthily with those I know who voted the Republican ticket this year is to listen patiently and to question. Society thinks that academics have all the answers, but the real trick up our sleeves is the Socratic method. Curiosity, patience, listening and a metric-ton of questions. I will listen to their complaints, and I will hold them accountable for their vote by asking what they intend to do to protect those most vulnerable to the new administration's policies.

Life has taught me that we are all individually more powerful than we can imagine, but this election has revealed to me just how powerless many of my white (or white-identifying) acquaintances may have been feeling before. It's time to make those who chose our President-elect aware of the consequences of their privilege, and it's time to empower them to use their privilege for good. 

Bao in Madrid

One day recently, I got a lunch of bao with L & H. We had been out for a while, and technically the lunch places were closing down, but we found this one restaurant in Chueca that looked decent and a little fusion-ey (called Baocata--a play on the Spanish word for sandwich and the Chinese concept of bao, which is a tiny sandwich in steamed bread).

I ordered two bao, one called the Alfred and another called Baorizona Baby. They were both delicious. The Alfred has duck confit and the pickled onions (and it was my favorite because of the pickled onions), and the Baorizona Baby bao had a sort of pulled pork and fried onions.

L & H appreciated the wide variety of hot sauce that the restaurant provided. Hot sauce is a precious commodity here in Spain, given that the food is rarely spicy whatsoever.

There were also chicken wings and patatas braves (french fries with a mildly spicy sauce). It was a good place and I'd definitely go back, if only for the Alfred.

Luke's Diner (II)

The one (mildly) jarring aspect of going to a Luke's Diner in Spain, is that the free coffee you get is not an American-style coffee.

The cups are the right size, but you get an espresso.

L & H were pretty happy with their espressos, but it did seem to me to be kind of a waste of paper...

Luke's Diner

I have a confession to make. I was not a huge fan of the Gilmore Girls while I was growing up. I mean, I watched an episode every now and then, but I wasn't obsessed like some of my friends were (ahem, are).

And yet, when I aw an ad for a Luke's Diner pop-up advertising the new mini-series on Netflix, I decided I had to go.

(I also convinced some friends to binge-watch the first 8 episodes with me this past weekend, and that made me realize that I did a good thing by canceling my Netflix subscription before I came to Spain. I'd be WAY less productive if I could binge-watch things on a daily basis).

The coffeeshop that Netflix chose to do this promotion at is pretty adorable. It's called Lolina Vintage, and in L's words, "It reminds me of Austin". 

Since we're in Spain, all the advertising copy is in Spanish. But they did a good job translating the concept of an American diner/coffeeshop to Madrid.

They even posted Luke's curmudgeonly "No cell phones" sign!

And of course, they gave us all free coffee (well, I bought a chai latte and had to pay for that), and free tote bags. Success!! 

On self-care: Skin Brushing

One of the main things I've done since moving to Madrid has been to continue figuring out the sort of lifestyle changes I need to be able to live more-or-less trichotillomania-free. It's touch and go because I'm really bad at privileging self-care when there's research and writing and fun times with friends!

I'm better at it when there's someone around who I can bounce things off of and structure my schedule to fit theirs (ahem, ).

Luckily, my roommate is very into self-care, and she's taught me a few things. Like, the need for vitamins and probiotics. And for a weekly cleaning/tidying regimen.

I also read the book CLEAN a few weeks ago, and got inspired to strengthen my liver chi (just go with it, guys). So I've been drinking more water in the morning, and trying to avoid eating solid food for 12 hours between breakfast and dinner. Haven't gotten to the actual elimination diet part of the plan yet to see if any foods really bother me, but I have started skin brushing.

You guys!!! LET ME TELL ABOUT SKIN BRUSHING!!!

Before I left Austin, I spoiled myself with a massage + body brushing treatment at Milk and Honey Spa. It was so cozy and lovely, and I got to take the (horse-hair) brush with me!

Body brushing and skin brushing are the same thing, and basically, you briskly rubs stiff horsehair brush in the direction of your heart--starting from your toes and working upwards (I skip my face, but I think that's ok). At first, it feels excessively rough, but it satisfies itches that I didn't know I had--providing tons of sensory stimulation that I didn't know I needed.

It exfoliates skin cells, AND it really promotes circulation. And most importantly, I have not been cold since I started doing this. 

Skin/body brushing. It's a thing, and it's amazing!

El Museo de Romanticismo

Madrid has all sorts of great museums dedicated to various parts of Spanish history and culture. Thanks to my annual pass, I get to visit all of the state-sponsored museums in the city for free (and a few in other cities as well).

One Saturday, I visited the Romanticism Museum, or a museum dedicated to the art and lifestyle of the 19th century. They had an awesome exhibit dedicated to the fashions of the Romantic period (think mid-late 1800s--it arrived to Spain a little later than it did to Northern Europe). I loved looking at all the trends in dresses and marveling at how tiny people were back then (in part thanks to corsets, but also in part thanks to malnutrition and just general shortness).

The only pictures that I took were of furnishings, though. Like these terrarium-type things.

And this chair.

I'm fairly positive it's a toilet, which gives new meaning to the slang term, "throne". I guess back in the 19th century, some toilets were literally velvet-covered thrones!

On Tactics of Resistance

Michel de Certeau once wrote an interesting book called The Practice of Everyday Life, wherein he demonstrated how individuals navigate their lives (under any sort of political or economic system) through the use of what he called "tactics": shortcuts, ways of moving, thinking and being in the world.

A big part of my research is examining how Hollywood films and affinity for US culture served as tactics of resistance for Spaniards living under the hardships of the dictatorship. Even people who weren't actively persecuted by the regime still suffered, and Hollywood films at least gave them the idea that some other life, some other possibilities existed beyond that which they knew.

I'm realizing that in the weeks after the election, I've developed a few tactics of my own. This isn't to say that the US has fallen under a dictatorship (though it may well in time), nor that my life has directly been impacted all that much (it hasn't--barring the tío who threatened me with a rather passé form of torture and public humiliation on Facebook).

And yet, it's nice to discover new tactics of resistance to the vagaries of life. My usual ones involve constant obsessing and BFRB's. These new ones are rather more empowering and subversive.

Let's start with the empowering ones.

I've added a civics resolution to my list: I'm calling my Congressmen. I have their numbers saved on Skype, and they have been hearing from me. Constantly. Ideally, daily, but at a minimum, 2-3x/week. It really doesn't take much. Just saving their numbers so that they are easily accessible and being specific about my requests.

And then, the subversion.

You may recall Civics Resolution #5, wherein I refuse to refer to this President-elect by name. It's going strong, but I've realized that just calling him the President-elect gets a little boring after awhile. I've been feeling a need to switch it up, so I've been going through a list of nicknames. So far, my favorite is "el pato Donald" (Donald Duck in Spanish), but I've come up with a few others:

• The gold-plated anything (typically something orange, like a carrot, persimmon or pumpkin)
• The Conspiracy-Theorist-in-Chief
• The Orange-faced Ensaimada
• The gold-topped push-up pop
• The Dumpster-Fire-in-Chief
• The angry orange emoji (😡)

Obviously, paid comedians can come up with a lot more (and their's tend to get more profane and also funnier), but this is what I've started with. Does anyone have any suggestions to add to my list?

Cortylandia (II)

I took a few videos of the Cortylandia experience, so people could watch how crazy fun (weird?) it is.

Yes, the songs are in Spanish, but it's basically plot-based advertising, so you should get the gist. I need to go back at night to be able to catch the whole show the way it's supposed to be seen. 

Cortylandia

Every year at Christmastime, the department store El Corte Inglés puts up a big animatronic Christmas show.

This year happens to be their 75th year, and they went all out. Fresh script (praising the fashions and other goodies you can find at the Corte Inglés), new music (combining Christmas and the Corte Inglés), and certain scenes projected onto a screen, in addition to the animatronic amazing-ness. The title is "Coser y Cantar", or "Sew and sing", and it kind of reminded me of a mix of the Seven Dwarfs from Snow White and the mice from Cinderella.

I stopped by last Saturday with friends L & H, and they commented that it kind of reminded them of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (in that it's a department store-branded, deeply commercial show aimed at children). I think that was probably part of the inspiration, but I also know that this show began under the Franco regime. It's still going on in part because generations of Spaniards (madrileñans in particular) have fond memories of visiting Cortylandia with their parents and spreading Christmas cheer by seeing the marvels the store would produce. It was a bright spot in a very difficult time for much of the country.

Check out all the people gathered to watch the show

Popular culture in general, and popular entertainment specifically, is a very powerful force in the world, and we must never forget that.

El Museo de Escultura (II)

One of my favorite parts about the Museo de Escultura is an altarpiece showing a miracle of Saints Cosmas and Damian. 

It's the one over my right shoulder. It's actually quite disturbing. Basically, it shows an early leg transplant. The most well-known miracle of Saints Cosmas and Damian is that they were able to provide a guy who had lost his leg to gout or cancer or some other malady with a new one. In the original tale, the leg donor is a deceased Ethiopian. The most terrifying aspect about the altarpiece in the photo is that the leg donor is grimacing and clutching his left leg at the knee, implying that perhaps he wasn't deceased after all, and that Cosmas and Damian cut the leg off of a black man because they could.

And by favorite parts, I mean one of the most impactful or disturbing aspects of the museum. The perception of bodies and people (who gets to feel pain? who gets to voice it? which bodies get personhood or not?) is constantly changing over the course of history. Ways of treating people that we now consider unjust were once considered normal, and the march of time just shows that we should still keep fighting for equality, conscientious treatment of others, and justice.