A former Nazi bunker in the French border town of Hendaye. I always felt it was a very powerful place, probably because it was the most significant "brush with history" that I'd had at the time.
Saturday, December 29, 1990
Sunday, September 16, 1990
Friday, September 14, 1990
Monday, September 10, 1990
Thursday, September 06, 1990
Wednesday, September 05, 1990
Studying in Spain - The First Month
10 April 2005 - thought it would be fun to include these 15-year old entries in my Blog, since I had already OCR'd them anyway, and just had to copy and paste. It's been fun to look back at life as an innocent college student, not realizing that I would be spending the rest of my life in Europe and would return regularly to San Sebastián. But in the end, that year had an enormous positive impact on my life which I continue to enjoy to this day.
(6 September. 1990)
The adventure begins! Today I began packing. I’m done with work and everyone at Iowa started back to school almost two weeks ago. I truly feel like I’m stuck between two worlds; one familiar, secure and ordinary, and another exciting, unknown and rather terrifying. As the fateful day approaches, though, I find myself more occupied with the mundane details and much less with any intangible frightening “maybe’ or “what if”. I suppose that’s just a healthy coping mechanism. I’ve had what I think is a nervous stomach ache for about the last two weeks, but it’s much better now.
So many details to take care of! So much to do, and dwindling time to do it in. The days are starting to stretch out, though, but maybe just because I didn’t leave the house today. I’m sure it will all come together in time.
Who knows what lies ahead of me? Only time will tell. God, I’m a living cliche!
(7 September 1990)
Who would have guessed that seventeen hours ago we were taking off in a plane from New York and now I’m making plans for where to go out on the town tonight in Madrid, Spain!
The trip was a horrible experience. Dad took me to the airport in the morning after I waved goodbye to Mom while she was standing alone on the doorstep. We met JoEllen and her parents at Des Moines International and I feel like I spaced Dad off a little bit when we said goodbye. It was so nice of him to take me out to lunch the day before and buy me the Swiss army knife. When I’m in airports, I tend to get so excited I never say goodbye to anyone properly. The same thing happened when I saw Doug in St. Louis. I was surprised to see what he’d done to his hair! It was great to see him, though. He caught me up on his life and I realized what a great friend he is. I sure hope I get to see him when I get back. After a quick goodbye hug, I took off for Washington D.C. We didn’t get off the plane, but as we were taking off again, I could see the Capitol, the Washington Monument, and the Pentagon. I sat next to a Greek woman who spoke German and French und wir haben ein bischen Deutsch et un petit peut de Francais gesprochen. Maria was her name, and she was neat.
Layover from hell in NYC. Had to drag 50 pounds worth of hockey bag all over the international terminal. On the bus to that terminal. we met another member of our program, Brett. In St. Louis, JoEllen and I had already met up with Doug, another Iowa student from Caroll. I paid $4.95 for an Amaretto sour. No trouble there, though, just a long wait. The tour of us helped each other out.
The Iberia flight was tolerable but LONG. I was too uncomfortable to sleep and I wasn’t sitting next to anyone interesting to talk to. The dinner and breakfast were very good. Our ranks grew on the plane and we met students from Marquette University in Wisconsin who were going to spend the year in Madrid.
The sun began to rise just before we landed at Barajas International Airport in Madrid. By that time we’d gained 7 hours, but except for fatigue (minor), I feel perfectly accustomed to my new schedule. It’s warm here but not hot. Customs didn’t want to have a thing to do with us (yea!) and sent us right through. It was actually cool out. We gathered around a double-decker bus and I began to meet the people I would be spending the next year with. There will be only FIVE of us studying Euskera, so I’m really excited about that. We had a fairly short trip to the campus of the Universidad Complutense de Madrid. The Colegio Mayor Chaminade is a fairly modern facility with a pool, cafeteria, bar, and rec areas. Like all colegios, this one is private and not associated with the university. I am in a single room with a bed and a sink, enough to keep me happy. We walked up the street and ordered a few cokes and I was also reintroduced to the marvellous invention, Horchata, that I loved so in Mexico. I’ll have to find a place to get it in concentrate.
David Bowie will be here next week and a few people are going to see him. I’ll pass. Everything is so expensive here. Coke costs 100 ptas a can out of a vending machine (which also dispenses beer) and it costs 250 ptas. at the cafe. It’s wild. La comida (lunch, but bigger) was at two and was fine. Ternera, vino tinto and macarrones. I have a meeting at 8 to discuss the week. I’m excited! I love this place, I can’t wait for San Sebastian!
(8 September 1990)
What a life this young naive Iowa boy leads. After a brief informational meeting, took off with the gang to the Metro, Madrid’s extensive subway system.. We changed routes once and got off at a station called Bilbao. The streets were filled with people, and some of them were violent (but only as the result of shoplifting attempts, I think). We ate bocadillos de tortilla de patata and drank horchata for dinner. We stopped by a great ice cream (italian ice) shop for double scoop of arroz con leche and cafe. We plugged a few quarters into a corner slot machine and hit the subway by ourselves for the return trip. I stayed up talking with some guys for a while and didn’t make it to bed until 2:23. Oh well, there’s always next week for sleep!
(9 September 1990)
Seven thirty came awfully quick this morning! A quick, light breakfast and then off to the Plaza de Espana to see the statue of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, then to the Palacio Rea1, a humongous old French-Italian building with more than 2,000 rooms. We then rode the metro to the Museo del Prado and did a quick tour of the works of Goya and Velazquez. I may go back to the Prado on Wednesday to see Picasso’s “Guernica”. We then ran all the way back to through two metro stations and barely made it in time for lunch, followed by a fabulous and much-needed siesta. Time to go be social! I should write some people tonight.
(10 September 1990)
What a 24 plus hours! Went out Saturday night and wandered with Mark, Mike and Rob. We make a fun foursome. Met some USAC girls at a bar and then moved on to the Rathskeller for some quick beers before making home on the last metro. Slept until 8, and then went to Toledo to see the Cathedral, San Tome, and go shopping and browsing through the narrow brick streets. Toledo was exactly how I expected Spain to look like. Our guide, Pilar, was really cool and gave me my first chance to really work on my Spanish. The cathedral itself was an amazing gothic monster of a building, housing some beautiful works of art and the tombs of many of Toledo’s bishops and cardinals. Above each tomb was the cardinal’s hat hung on a string. Legend has it that when the string breaks and the hat falls, the Cardinal has made it to heaven. We saw the synagogue and the city walls and then the panorama of the city before we had lunch and came home.
Then things started to get strange.
We went to the Sunday 20.00 bullfight at the Plaza de Toros and chatted with a bunch of Japanese college girls who were there visiting. Then we went looking for Mike, who’d run off to chat with some of his friends from Middlebury. Rob then promptly bumped into (literally) Martin Sheen. He freaked out and ran to tell us about it, but we didn’t believe him until I saw him standing with Pedro Almodovar. We went up to them and talked for about 15 minutes until we all went to our respective seats. Both were very friendly and warm. I enjoyed listening to Martin (a.k.a Ramon Estevez) talk about his sons and his possible new project about an American bullfighter in Madrid. I got both their autographs, Pedro’s first. “Talent before beauty,” I told him jokingly. I can’t believe I said that! They both saw my ACT UP button, Pedro first, and I told him they were a bunch of Tias Locas but great and he agreed. He signed the back of my ticket with, “Jon, carino, suerte y besos, Pedro Almodovar.” Martin said that he’d spent the night in jail with ACT UP people after demonstrating with them in L.A. We parted company to see the bullfight.
I haven’t yet decided how I feel about it. It’s an important part of Spanish culture, but the cruelty to animals aspect of it bothers me. I’m glad I went, though, because I would have been disappointed to not be able to see it. During the fight, Rob reminded me that Sheen had starred in “Consenting Adults” with Marlo Thomas in a made for television movie. The last bull killed itself by ramming head-on into a wooden barrier moments after shooting out of the pen. We saw it on the television monitor while we were leaving. He broke his neck and died instantly.
We waited to speak to Martin again outside and connected with him right when we were about to give up. I got a chance to tell him how much “Consenting Adult” meant to a lot of young people in my generation. He reminded me that he didn’t exactly play a very sympathetic character, but told him his participation in the work as a whole made a big difference for a lot of people my age. His sister, who lives in Madrid, dragged him off to dinner. He was very genuine and a little bit high—strung like he is in all his movies, and he was attractive as ever. His son is going to school here at Complutense. We took a few pictures and I’m sure I could have talked to him for hours longer. People were jealous as hell of us.
Last night we went to Picadilly at Sol and gambled away about 500 ptas, then went to a small but friendly cafe on a side street off the plaza. We looked at a magazine stand with tons of porno and came home. We chatted with a really great student from Burgos named Oscar and some CSU program students staying there. We told jokes and talked about culture and linguistics until about 3. I slept until 10.30 and got up to go out with the four mouseketeers. I bought a 1 liter bottle of horchata, sent post cards and bought the new, mellower Mecano tape (bootleg, 500 ptas.). I’m listening to it now with Rob.
Rob is definitely pushing the middle of the Kinsey scale. I guess we’ll see. There’s just something really repressed about him.
(12 September 1990)
Wow! Days in Spain last forever. I think it’s because of the siesta combined with the late hours. Today was especially memorable. Por la mañana fuimos en autobús a San Lorenzo del Escorial y Don Carlos el Monótono nos mostró el catedral y el panteón. Sentí una energía muy poderosa en el panteón de los Reyes, donde se encuentran los restos de todos los reyes, reinas y otros lideres reales de este país. Son como treinta ataúdes en total y solo quedan dos vacíos para la familia real actual. Tomamos una horchata en la cafetería y luego salimos para el Valle de los Caídos.
Este valle se encuentra a 100 km de Madrid y fue construido por prisioneros de guerra que capturo Franco durante la Guerra Civil. Pretende ser un monumento a los muertos de la guerra, pero para mi y para muchos españoles representa la represión del dictador muerto. Están enterrados allí los restos de mis de 90.000 soldados y Franco mismo. Hay una gran cruz de piedra encima del monte y se puede subir en funicular para ver el valle. Es muy pintoresca la vista de allí. El catedral también es increíble. Serla el catedral mis largo del mundo si el papa no hubiera exigido la colocación de una especie de barrera para cortar el tamaño porque no le gustaba Franco. Luego almorzamos un bocadillo y fuimos a Ávila, una ciudad rodeada por una muralla. Subimos la muralla y dimos una vuelta por encima. También fuimos al catedral allí, pero estaba mucho menos cuidado que los demás que habíamos visto. Aaa, se me olvidó mencionar que pisé la tumba de Franco por lo que hizo a los vascos. ¡Que se queme por toda la eternidad en el infierno! Seguro estaré a gusto allí.
Llegamos de vuelta a Madrid a las 19.00 y me eche inmediatamente a la cama para echar una siesta. Comimos a las 22.00 y por fin me encontré con un chico(/a) que me habla prometido unas entradas a una discoteca el día anterior. Jaime me dio como treinta entradas a JOY ESLAVA, la mejor discoteca de Madrid.
Joy was, in a word, HOT! It was a promotional part for tonight’s David Bowie concert. Joy Eslava is in an old theatre that has been remodelled. There’s a lot of cushy furniture, neon on the two balconies, and a sound system that would send Marcy Durant or Tracy from Z into seventh heaven. I took my Vogue megamix and gave it to the DJ and he played it twice. He asked if he could keep it to copy and I told him sure. I went there today and he wasn’t there. I went again tonight and he gave it back to me, but without giving me the tape he promised he would. I’ve never danced so much in my entire life! Lots of house music, just a little salsa. and LOTS of Madonna and Vogue. It reminded me a lot of Z International with its mixed crowd. There was a brief floor show prior to the drawing for Bowie concert tickets, t-shirts and albums. The dance number with three guys and three gals was a tightly choreographed routine with a lot of vogueing and some very impressive moves. At the end of the night, he played my tape again and Rob and I got up on the stage and danced with Jaime in his Jean Paul Gautier “Casuin’ a Commotion” outfit from Madonna’s tour and some of the floor show dancers. We went wild and vogued up a storm! We then came home by Taxi at 5.45 and I slept until 14.00! What a night!
(13 September 1990)
I had a fairly uneventful Wednesday. Went to Joy with Rob. I messed up. It was 23.00 to 5.00. not 11.00 to 17.00 that he was going to be there. I didn’t get a copy of his Madonna megamix, but at least I got mine back. Oh well.
I woke up this morning with a surprise: a bitchin’ stomach ache. What a wonderful way to spend the day travelling. All turned out well. The bus was more comfortable than other touring buses I’ve been on, but my butt still hurt.
We started out at 9.00 and made it to Segovia by 11.00. We saw the graceful Roman aqueduct and the fortress El Alcazar. The most impressive thing about it was how it looked down over the valley. I’ve never seen more beautiful things that could easily be the subject of a painting. Everything is so picturesque.
Man, however, could never come even close to equalling the surreal beauty of the Basque Country and San Sebastian. Compared to Madrid, this is a different world; a world of luscious greens and imposing mountains. We followed winding reads for six hours to get here and we all watched as the barren desert of La Mancha’s landscape gave way to the mountains and pine forests of Euskadi. We then arrived at the northern coast with the amazing “La Concha,” exactly as it looks in all the pictures.
Colegio La Salle is a large building that on the outside lives up to the Prison Camp reputation it has among Iowa students. On the inside, however, is a fairly comfortable fourth floor that houses our cadre of students in single rooms. I should be able to survive here nicely for a few weeks if necessary.
Friendships are evolving nicely. Maybe it’s time to branch out into a few women for friends; better not to limit one’s self. I continue to feel an attraction to Rob, who continues to confuse me. Time and space will tell, I’m sure.
Madrid was run, but the vacation is now over and it’s time for the real adventure to begin. Green Spain at it’s best and brightest: Euskadi!
(16 September 1990)
Tuvimos orientación el viernes con la Sra. Menchacatorre, procedente de Nueva Jersey. She explained the essentials of student life in Donostia. While the others took the placement test, I ate in the Magisterio’s beautiful Taberna and made an appointment to see an apartment. By 4 p.m., I was standing in what will this afternoon become my home for the next 8+ months. There are three law students there and I’ll be moving in with Mark Thorvillson from Iowa, whom I came out to first. It’s nice to have that over with. I was going to live with Rob, but he was being so vacillatory about it that I think I made the right choice. I’m not particularly excited about it — it’s not 3909 Brentwood Drive — but we’ll see how it goes.
I’ve not been feeling so well so I haven’t done much besides eat and sleep. I hope this doesn’t develop into a full-blown cold.
I can’t wait to study Euskera!
(21 September 1990)
Bueno, por fin ha terminado la etapa turística de nuestro viaje y Mark y yo, por lo menos, hemos empezado a formar construir una vida común y corriente aquí en la capital de Gipuzkoa. Esa es la razón verdadera por la cual yo vine: vivir una vida normal en otro país, junto a los nativos, para que llegue a conocer mejor exactamente como es el ser de otro país.
Todo nos ha quedado super-bien aquí. Ya hemos conocido a los tres compañeros de piso: Jose, Inigo y Goyo. Todos son bastante majos pero muy distintos cada uno. Cada uno tiene su propio carácter y será muy interesante ver como mezclan esas características durante el ano.
Mark y yo nos llevamos a tope. Es un gran amigo. A veces me da pena que no entiende lo que estamos diciendo, pero con suerte eso ya se solucionará. Estoy muy contento de que estemos compartiendo el piso.
Las clases van muy bien. Me matriculé en Euskera 1-4 e Historia de Euskadi. Fuimos anoche por la primera vez de juerga por la ciudad. Empezamos en el centro, donde el pobre Mark fue brutalmente vencido en un partido de ajedrez que jugó contra Juan Ma, un amigo de Goyo. Luego fuimos a la Parte Vieja y a Amara Berri donde me llené la barriga de pulpo y tortilla. Pasé toda la noche de payaso, contando chistes y diciendo tonterías misceláneas, pero me divertí mucho.
Casi he vencido a ese maldito catarro! iYipi!
Ayer empezó el Festival de Cine de Donostia. Han llegado varias estrellas americanas como Matt Dillon y Matthew Broderick (pant pant). Espero poder ver por lo menos una película para nada mas poder decir que he participado.
En el camino al primer bar anoche, pasamos algun bar que debia haber estado en el Paseo de La Concha o Askatasunako Bidea. Al pasarlo, Juan Ma dijo, “Es un bar para homosexuales.” Quería agradecerle, pero no se me ocurrió cómo hacerlo de una manera discreta. Ya tendré que pasar pon allí.
(23 September 1990)
Ayer tenia una mala leche para todos y no se exactamente porqué. Quiero hablar con mis padres y no he podido. Es una locura que en un país tan moderno no se puede hacer una simple llamada a cobro revertido sin ir a la puta Telefónica en algún lugar desconocido del centro. Mañana iré a La Salle para llamar, si es que está abierto.
Anoche fui con Mike, Rob y Mark a cenar en la cafetería Lau y luego al Festival de Cine en el cine Astoria. Vimos “Mo’ Better Blues” y tiene un estilo completamente diferente que las otras películas de Spike Lee. Ya se ha madurado como guionista y director, pero sigue siendo un actor bastante flojo. Denzel Washingion hizo un trabajo impresionante en el papel principal. Después de la función conocimos a un jugador de baloncesto en el equipo de Loyola ‘91 que se llama Leonard. Es de Los Angeles.
Esta noche a volver de Lau les llamé a mis padres desde una cabina al lado de mi casa. Me clavaron 400 ptas. por un solo minuto. Por lo menos logré decirles que estoy bien y que los quiero mucho. Espero que reciban pronto mi carta.
(28 September 1990)
Mira que malo soy. Casi una semana entera sin escribir. Será porque ahora que hemos dejado de ser turistas y no pasa tanto como antes.
Hardly anything has come as a shock yet. I don’t know whether it’s because I came so well—prepared or because I haven’t immersed myself fully enough into the culture here. I’m going to make an effort to do the latter, stop using English and throw myself more into Euskera.
(6 September. 1990)
The adventure begins! Today I began packing. I’m done with work and everyone at Iowa started back to school almost two weeks ago. I truly feel like I’m stuck between two worlds; one familiar, secure and ordinary, and another exciting, unknown and rather terrifying. As the fateful day approaches, though, I find myself more occupied with the mundane details and much less with any intangible frightening “maybe’ or “what if”. I suppose that’s just a healthy coping mechanism. I’ve had what I think is a nervous stomach ache for about the last two weeks, but it’s much better now.
So many details to take care of! So much to do, and dwindling time to do it in. The days are starting to stretch out, though, but maybe just because I didn’t leave the house today. I’m sure it will all come together in time.
Who knows what lies ahead of me? Only time will tell. God, I’m a living cliche!
(7 September 1990)
Who would have guessed that seventeen hours ago we were taking off in a plane from New York and now I’m making plans for where to go out on the town tonight in Madrid, Spain!
The trip was a horrible experience. Dad took me to the airport in the morning after I waved goodbye to Mom while she was standing alone on the doorstep. We met JoEllen and her parents at Des Moines International and I feel like I spaced Dad off a little bit when we said goodbye. It was so nice of him to take me out to lunch the day before and buy me the Swiss army knife. When I’m in airports, I tend to get so excited I never say goodbye to anyone properly. The same thing happened when I saw Doug in St. Louis. I was surprised to see what he’d done to his hair! It was great to see him, though. He caught me up on his life and I realized what a great friend he is. I sure hope I get to see him when I get back. After a quick goodbye hug, I took off for Washington D.C. We didn’t get off the plane, but as we were taking off again, I could see the Capitol, the Washington Monument, and the Pentagon. I sat next to a Greek woman who spoke German and French und wir haben ein bischen Deutsch et un petit peut de Francais gesprochen. Maria was her name, and she was neat.
Layover from hell in NYC. Had to drag 50 pounds worth of hockey bag all over the international terminal. On the bus to that terminal. we met another member of our program, Brett. In St. Louis, JoEllen and I had already met up with Doug, another Iowa student from Caroll. I paid $4.95 for an Amaretto sour. No trouble there, though, just a long wait. The tour of us helped each other out.
The Iberia flight was tolerable but LONG. I was too uncomfortable to sleep and I wasn’t sitting next to anyone interesting to talk to. The dinner and breakfast were very good. Our ranks grew on the plane and we met students from Marquette University in Wisconsin who were going to spend the year in Madrid.
The sun began to rise just before we landed at Barajas International Airport in Madrid. By that time we’d gained 7 hours, but except for fatigue (minor), I feel perfectly accustomed to my new schedule. It’s warm here but not hot. Customs didn’t want to have a thing to do with us (yea!) and sent us right through. It was actually cool out. We gathered around a double-decker bus and I began to meet the people I would be spending the next year with. There will be only FIVE of us studying Euskera, so I’m really excited about that. We had a fairly short trip to the campus of the Universidad Complutense de Madrid. The Colegio Mayor Chaminade is a fairly modern facility with a pool, cafeteria, bar, and rec areas. Like all colegios, this one is private and not associated with the university. I am in a single room with a bed and a sink, enough to keep me happy. We walked up the street and ordered a few cokes and I was also reintroduced to the marvellous invention, Horchata, that I loved so in Mexico. I’ll have to find a place to get it in concentrate.
David Bowie will be here next week and a few people are going to see him. I’ll pass. Everything is so expensive here. Coke costs 100 ptas a can out of a vending machine (which also dispenses beer) and it costs 250 ptas. at the cafe. It’s wild. La comida (lunch, but bigger) was at two and was fine. Ternera, vino tinto and macarrones. I have a meeting at 8 to discuss the week. I’m excited! I love this place, I can’t wait for San Sebastian!
(8 September 1990)
What a life this young naive Iowa boy leads. After a brief informational meeting, took off with the gang to the Metro, Madrid’s extensive subway system.. We changed routes once and got off at a station called Bilbao. The streets were filled with people, and some of them were violent (but only as the result of shoplifting attempts, I think). We ate bocadillos de tortilla de patata and drank horchata for dinner. We stopped by a great ice cream (italian ice) shop for double scoop of arroz con leche and cafe. We plugged a few quarters into a corner slot machine and hit the subway by ourselves for the return trip. I stayed up talking with some guys for a while and didn’t make it to bed until 2:23. Oh well, there’s always next week for sleep!
(9 September 1990)
Seven thirty came awfully quick this morning! A quick, light breakfast and then off to the Plaza de Espana to see the statue of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, then to the Palacio Rea1, a humongous old French-Italian building with more than 2,000 rooms. We then rode the metro to the Museo del Prado and did a quick tour of the works of Goya and Velazquez. I may go back to the Prado on Wednesday to see Picasso’s “Guernica”. We then ran all the way back to through two metro stations and barely made it in time for lunch, followed by a fabulous and much-needed siesta. Time to go be social! I should write some people tonight.
(10 September 1990)
What a 24 plus hours! Went out Saturday night and wandered with Mark, Mike and Rob. We make a fun foursome. Met some USAC girls at a bar and then moved on to the Rathskeller for some quick beers before making home on the last metro. Slept until 8, and then went to Toledo to see the Cathedral, San Tome, and go shopping and browsing through the narrow brick streets. Toledo was exactly how I expected Spain to look like. Our guide, Pilar, was really cool and gave me my first chance to really work on my Spanish. The cathedral itself was an amazing gothic monster of a building, housing some beautiful works of art and the tombs of many of Toledo’s bishops and cardinals. Above each tomb was the cardinal’s hat hung on a string. Legend has it that when the string breaks and the hat falls, the Cardinal has made it to heaven. We saw the synagogue and the city walls and then the panorama of the city before we had lunch and came home.
Then things started to get strange.
We went to the Sunday 20.00 bullfight at the Plaza de Toros and chatted with a bunch of Japanese college girls who were there visiting. Then we went looking for Mike, who’d run off to chat with some of his friends from Middlebury. Rob then promptly bumped into (literally) Martin Sheen. He freaked out and ran to tell us about it, but we didn’t believe him until I saw him standing with Pedro Almodovar. We went up to them and talked for about 15 minutes until we all went to our respective seats. Both were very friendly and warm. I enjoyed listening to Martin (a.k.a Ramon Estevez) talk about his sons and his possible new project about an American bullfighter in Madrid. I got both their autographs, Pedro’s first. “Talent before beauty,” I told him jokingly. I can’t believe I said that! They both saw my ACT UP button, Pedro first, and I told him they were a bunch of Tias Locas but great and he agreed. He signed the back of my ticket with, “Jon, carino, suerte y besos, Pedro Almodovar.” Martin said that he’d spent the night in jail with ACT UP people after demonstrating with them in L.A. We parted company to see the bullfight.
I haven’t yet decided how I feel about it. It’s an important part of Spanish culture, but the cruelty to animals aspect of it bothers me. I’m glad I went, though, because I would have been disappointed to not be able to see it. During the fight, Rob reminded me that Sheen had starred in “Consenting Adults” with Marlo Thomas in a made for television movie. The last bull killed itself by ramming head-on into a wooden barrier moments after shooting out of the pen. We saw it on the television monitor while we were leaving. He broke his neck and died instantly.
We waited to speak to Martin again outside and connected with him right when we were about to give up. I got a chance to tell him how much “Consenting Adult” meant to a lot of young people in my generation. He reminded me that he didn’t exactly play a very sympathetic character, but told him his participation in the work as a whole made a big difference for a lot of people my age. His sister, who lives in Madrid, dragged him off to dinner. He was very genuine and a little bit high—strung like he is in all his movies, and he was attractive as ever. His son is going to school here at Complutense. We took a few pictures and I’m sure I could have talked to him for hours longer. People were jealous as hell of us.
Last night we went to Picadilly at Sol and gambled away about 500 ptas, then went to a small but friendly cafe on a side street off the plaza. We looked at a magazine stand with tons of porno and came home. We chatted with a really great student from Burgos named Oscar and some CSU program students staying there. We told jokes and talked about culture and linguistics until about 3. I slept until 10.30 and got up to go out with the four mouseketeers. I bought a 1 liter bottle of horchata, sent post cards and bought the new, mellower Mecano tape (bootleg, 500 ptas.). I’m listening to it now with Rob.
Rob is definitely pushing the middle of the Kinsey scale. I guess we’ll see. There’s just something really repressed about him.
(12 September 1990)
Wow! Days in Spain last forever. I think it’s because of the siesta combined with the late hours. Today was especially memorable. Por la mañana fuimos en autobús a San Lorenzo del Escorial y Don Carlos el Monótono nos mostró el catedral y el panteón. Sentí una energía muy poderosa en el panteón de los Reyes, donde se encuentran los restos de todos los reyes, reinas y otros lideres reales de este país. Son como treinta ataúdes en total y solo quedan dos vacíos para la familia real actual. Tomamos una horchata en la cafetería y luego salimos para el Valle de los Caídos.
Este valle se encuentra a 100 km de Madrid y fue construido por prisioneros de guerra que capturo Franco durante la Guerra Civil. Pretende ser un monumento a los muertos de la guerra, pero para mi y para muchos españoles representa la represión del dictador muerto. Están enterrados allí los restos de mis de 90.000 soldados y Franco mismo. Hay una gran cruz de piedra encima del monte y se puede subir en funicular para ver el valle. Es muy pintoresca la vista de allí. El catedral también es increíble. Serla el catedral mis largo del mundo si el papa no hubiera exigido la colocación de una especie de barrera para cortar el tamaño porque no le gustaba Franco. Luego almorzamos un bocadillo y fuimos a Ávila, una ciudad rodeada por una muralla. Subimos la muralla y dimos una vuelta por encima. También fuimos al catedral allí, pero estaba mucho menos cuidado que los demás que habíamos visto. Aaa, se me olvidó mencionar que pisé la tumba de Franco por lo que hizo a los vascos. ¡Que se queme por toda la eternidad en el infierno! Seguro estaré a gusto allí.
Llegamos de vuelta a Madrid a las 19.00 y me eche inmediatamente a la cama para echar una siesta. Comimos a las 22.00 y por fin me encontré con un chico(/a) que me habla prometido unas entradas a una discoteca el día anterior. Jaime me dio como treinta entradas a JOY ESLAVA, la mejor discoteca de Madrid.
Joy was, in a word, HOT! It was a promotional part for tonight’s David Bowie concert. Joy Eslava is in an old theatre that has been remodelled. There’s a lot of cushy furniture, neon on the two balconies, and a sound system that would send Marcy Durant or Tracy from Z into seventh heaven. I took my Vogue megamix and gave it to the DJ and he played it twice. He asked if he could keep it to copy and I told him sure. I went there today and he wasn’t there. I went again tonight and he gave it back to me, but without giving me the tape he promised he would. I’ve never danced so much in my entire life! Lots of house music, just a little salsa. and LOTS of Madonna and Vogue. It reminded me a lot of Z International with its mixed crowd. There was a brief floor show prior to the drawing for Bowie concert tickets, t-shirts and albums. The dance number with three guys and three gals was a tightly choreographed routine with a lot of vogueing and some very impressive moves. At the end of the night, he played my tape again and Rob and I got up on the stage and danced with Jaime in his Jean Paul Gautier “Casuin’ a Commotion” outfit from Madonna’s tour and some of the floor show dancers. We went wild and vogued up a storm! We then came home by Taxi at 5.45 and I slept until 14.00! What a night!
(13 September 1990)
I had a fairly uneventful Wednesday. Went to Joy with Rob. I messed up. It was 23.00 to 5.00. not 11.00 to 17.00 that he was going to be there. I didn’t get a copy of his Madonna megamix, but at least I got mine back. Oh well.
I woke up this morning with a surprise: a bitchin’ stomach ache. What a wonderful way to spend the day travelling. All turned out well. The bus was more comfortable than other touring buses I’ve been on, but my butt still hurt.
We started out at 9.00 and made it to Segovia by 11.00. We saw the graceful Roman aqueduct and the fortress El Alcazar. The most impressive thing about it was how it looked down over the valley. I’ve never seen more beautiful things that could easily be the subject of a painting. Everything is so picturesque.
Man, however, could never come even close to equalling the surreal beauty of the Basque Country and San Sebastian. Compared to Madrid, this is a different world; a world of luscious greens and imposing mountains. We followed winding reads for six hours to get here and we all watched as the barren desert of La Mancha’s landscape gave way to the mountains and pine forests of Euskadi. We then arrived at the northern coast with the amazing “La Concha,” exactly as it looks in all the pictures.
Colegio La Salle is a large building that on the outside lives up to the Prison Camp reputation it has among Iowa students. On the inside, however, is a fairly comfortable fourth floor that houses our cadre of students in single rooms. I should be able to survive here nicely for a few weeks if necessary.
Friendships are evolving nicely. Maybe it’s time to branch out into a few women for friends; better not to limit one’s self. I continue to feel an attraction to Rob, who continues to confuse me. Time and space will tell, I’m sure.
Madrid was run, but the vacation is now over and it’s time for the real adventure to begin. Green Spain at it’s best and brightest: Euskadi!
(16 September 1990)
Tuvimos orientación el viernes con la Sra. Menchacatorre, procedente de Nueva Jersey. She explained the essentials of student life in Donostia. While the others took the placement test, I ate in the Magisterio’s beautiful Taberna and made an appointment to see an apartment. By 4 p.m., I was standing in what will this afternoon become my home for the next 8+ months. There are three law students there and I’ll be moving in with Mark Thorvillson from Iowa, whom I came out to first. It’s nice to have that over with. I was going to live with Rob, but he was being so vacillatory about it that I think I made the right choice. I’m not particularly excited about it — it’s not 3909 Brentwood Drive — but we’ll see how it goes.
I’ve not been feeling so well so I haven’t done much besides eat and sleep. I hope this doesn’t develop into a full-blown cold.
I can’t wait to study Euskera!
(21 September 1990)
Bueno, por fin ha terminado la etapa turística de nuestro viaje y Mark y yo, por lo menos, hemos empezado a formar construir una vida común y corriente aquí en la capital de Gipuzkoa. Esa es la razón verdadera por la cual yo vine: vivir una vida normal en otro país, junto a los nativos, para que llegue a conocer mejor exactamente como es el ser de otro país.
Todo nos ha quedado super-bien aquí. Ya hemos conocido a los tres compañeros de piso: Jose, Inigo y Goyo. Todos son bastante majos pero muy distintos cada uno. Cada uno tiene su propio carácter y será muy interesante ver como mezclan esas características durante el ano.
Mark y yo nos llevamos a tope. Es un gran amigo. A veces me da pena que no entiende lo que estamos diciendo, pero con suerte eso ya se solucionará. Estoy muy contento de que estemos compartiendo el piso.
Las clases van muy bien. Me matriculé en Euskera 1-4 e Historia de Euskadi. Fuimos anoche por la primera vez de juerga por la ciudad. Empezamos en el centro, donde el pobre Mark fue brutalmente vencido en un partido de ajedrez que jugó contra Juan Ma, un amigo de Goyo. Luego fuimos a la Parte Vieja y a Amara Berri donde me llené la barriga de pulpo y tortilla. Pasé toda la noche de payaso, contando chistes y diciendo tonterías misceláneas, pero me divertí mucho.
Casi he vencido a ese maldito catarro! iYipi!
Ayer empezó el Festival de Cine de Donostia. Han llegado varias estrellas americanas como Matt Dillon y Matthew Broderick (pant pant). Espero poder ver por lo menos una película para nada mas poder decir que he participado.
En el camino al primer bar anoche, pasamos algun bar que debia haber estado en el Paseo de La Concha o Askatasunako Bidea. Al pasarlo, Juan Ma dijo, “Es un bar para homosexuales.” Quería agradecerle, pero no se me ocurrió cómo hacerlo de una manera discreta. Ya tendré que pasar pon allí.
(23 September 1990)
Ayer tenia una mala leche para todos y no se exactamente porqué. Quiero hablar con mis padres y no he podido. Es una locura que en un país tan moderno no se puede hacer una simple llamada a cobro revertido sin ir a la puta Telefónica en algún lugar desconocido del centro. Mañana iré a La Salle para llamar, si es que está abierto.
Anoche fui con Mike, Rob y Mark a cenar en la cafetería Lau y luego al Festival de Cine en el cine Astoria. Vimos “Mo’ Better Blues” y tiene un estilo completamente diferente que las otras películas de Spike Lee. Ya se ha madurado como guionista y director, pero sigue siendo un actor bastante flojo. Denzel Washingion hizo un trabajo impresionante en el papel principal. Después de la función conocimos a un jugador de baloncesto en el equipo de Loyola ‘91 que se llama Leonard. Es de Los Angeles.
Esta noche a volver de Lau les llamé a mis padres desde una cabina al lado de mi casa. Me clavaron 400 ptas. por un solo minuto. Por lo menos logré decirles que estoy bien y que los quiero mucho. Espero que reciban pronto mi carta.
(28 September 1990)
Mira que malo soy. Casi una semana entera sin escribir. Será porque ahora que hemos dejado de ser turistas y no pasa tanto como antes.
Hardly anything has come as a shock yet. I don’t know whether it’s because I came so well—prepared or because I haven’t immersed myself fully enough into the culture here. I’m going to make an effort to do the latter, stop using English and throw myself more into Euskera.
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