jakit

Madrid Chill & Paris Anxiety

I´m sitting in the upstairs of an old Madrid cafe.

The place is laid back but it speaks of a former grandeur perhaps from before the Civil War. Over by the window, a group of old men are playing dominos or some Spanish version of it. A waiter just brought me a shot of espresso for I need to sober up a little before I make my way to the train station. The bill was 1.75 Euros. I gave him 2 and motioned with my hand that I needed no change. He seemed pleased.

They´ve thrown a few computers up here and so that´s where I am. I´ve just come from spending a few hours in an outdoor cafe drinking beer and watching the Spaniards be happy and warm. This is in stark contrast to the vibe of Paris.

Paris is great, but there´s always a sense of relief that comes when you leave the place. They are so damned particular with their ways that I walk around in a state of permanent anxiety, as if at any time I might do something godawful wrong.

And I have, believe me.

Once I committed the unforgiveable crime of picking out my own fruit from the stand. A couple days ago I actually tried to order dinner at the wrong time; it was too early; silly American.

When you upset the delicate Parisian way, they let you know. Not in the loud, arrogant American style, but it the passive-agressive French form, they sulk. They really do, they sulk. And because I harbour such guilt for the international crimes of our current administration, I actually feel bad. And because I feel bad, I get timid.

It got to the point the other night that I almost didn´t eat. I was eating poorly and I felt like having something vegetarian. I remembered this one little place on Montmartre that Erika, Chris, Nicole and I went to in the summer of 20002 and I decided to track it down. Much to my surprise, I actually found it. However, I couldn´t remember if you were supposed to sit yourself at a restaurant or approach a waiter first and ask to be seated. The inside of the tiny restaurant was full and I didn´t want to walk in and commit a major faux paux, so I sat down at the only table outside and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

No one came to help me. I couldn´t tell if they hadn´t seen me or if they were refusing to help me because of my bad form. Someone who did see me, though, was some French chick inside. Sadly, she didn´t choose to inform the waitress of my presence.

Even worse; because the chick had seen me, I couldn´t get up now and go inside and play it off like I had just shown up. It should have been simple to just go in there and say something but I had become convinced that they were all conspiring to teach me a lesson for trying to seat myself. I was postitive that when I finally walked in there they would all shake their heads and pooh-pooh in that Gaulic way.

All the customers knew what I was doing. The two construction workers sitting and smoking nearby on the sidewalk were starting to stare at me. Everyone walking down the street gave me that look. I might as well have been naked standing on the top of the Eiffel Tower singing the Star Spangled Banner.

Finally, when the pressure became too much to bear, I took off. I just darted out of there at full fast-walk speed. I rounded a corner and took a deep breath.

Eventually that night I was finally able to eat. But it took awhile.

Adventure

Well, I'm off on my adventure.

I leave today for Paris, from which I will slowly make my way via train and boat to Marrakech.

Hopefully, I'll see Barcelona and Fez along the way.

Ciao,

New Urbanism

Not too long ago, folks would go to the local theater to watch a new movie. The studios made a lot of money from tickets sales and all was well. But then with the increase in technology, the studios learned there was much more money to be made by selling folks on the idea of watching movies at home. After all, a trip to the theater costs the price of a ticket and maybe some popcorn. But watching movies at home is a TV, a DVD player and some DVDs at the very least; maybe add in a TIVO, home theater and a fancy new recliner.

By convincing people to stay at home, businesses greatly increase the amount of money they can make. When a community goes to a cafe to socialize and drink coffee, hundreds of people share a few tables over time. When a community stays at home to drink coffee and socializes on the internet, hundreds of people buy hundreds of tables (and computers.) It's the difference between selling a few things to be shared by a community and selling many things to be used individually.

One of the sad things here is that the community uses those tables constantly, whereas the same tables in someone's huge home go largely unused. It's wasteful at best, indulgent at worst.

But perhaps the bigger problem here is that people have learned, or more likely been taught, to dislike and even fear the community. That's the resason for the SUV. Look at the Cadillac Escalade, so mean and tough, designed to protect the occupant from the violent outside world.

And so we Americans drive our tank-like cars to our huge gated-homes in the burbs and live in solitude only communicating with each other and the outside world through the safety of digital devices. And should that saftey zone be upset, by terrorists nonetheless, well hell, let's chuck our civil liberties and morality and slaughter people half way across the world.

Because, well, it's all in the name of good business and America was built on good business.

This is why I so desire the urban experience, especially that which exists in Europe. In urban places, people are still forced to interact and thus their understanding of each other is higher. Spaces are small so you can't have your own pool table, you must go to the local pub to play pool. This is the way we should live, for peace and for the Earth as well.