Putamierda = mothsheister's new spanish vocab word!

After every possible plane delay as well as waiting an hour for our luggage and then another hour to find out that it was lost, we officially arrived out of the airport into sunny Madrid Spain. One serious problem of the modern airline industry that we have observed: severe under staffing. We waited in line (with only 2 passengers in front of us) to check in at BWI for over an hour b/c fourof their staff ended their shift and they did not replace them. The rest of the staff were assigned to assist passenger's using the self serve kiosks (which we could not b/c of discriminatory immigration practices) - but WHY HAVE THE MACHINES? if you need ot have people staffing them anyway? There was literally a staff member who kept asking us in line "are you sure you can't use the machines" rather than actually staffing the ticket counter and helping us check in!!!!!! AGH!!! After intervention by fellow passengers and ourselves, we got the line moving and were able to make it to our flight, which was eventually delayed two hours anyway....

That, by the way, was while we sat on the smallest plane ever (photo to come). Mothersheister did remarkably well considering the small size of the plane and her deep seeded fear of flying - maybe she will overcome it completely some day? The next plane could have fit at least three of our first planes into it, yet it did not even have individual TV screens on the backs of the seats for our veiwing pleasure! Not that Fred Claus is viewing pleasure but still... The Morning screening of Mama Mia on the other hand was excellent and Mothersheister had a great time dancing and singing while bent and dj "i'm in love with edward cullen" slept fitfully.

The lovely eye-coverings provided by Delta were very helpful in the sleep department.

Unfortunately, by traveling on December 17 we missed the commemoration of International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers. Check out what we missed at the big march in DC :(

Once we landed we thought all was clear as we wizzed through customs (we all had to go throught "the rest" column as opposed to "spanish and EU" line) and we eagerly made our way to the baggage claim. Our enthusiasm was trampled as we watched bag after bag pass us on the conveyor belt, some as many as twenty times in repetition. Yet our bags were nowhere to be found. An hour later they said no more bags were coming from JFK, so we headed over to the baggage info line, which once again was understaffed. We probably smelled and looked like characters from the last scene of Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise.



During yet anotherinterminable wait, we were pleasantly surprised by our host dj ana who had somehow made it past the security guards into the secure area of the airport to find us because she had been waiting so long for us. While we were overjoyed to see her, it does not bode well for security at Madrid's Barajas airport. When we finally were able to speak with the one person assigned to answer our questions, she told us our bags had not arrived but that they would be delivered when they did. Damn!!!!

Undaunted, we headed into the city and hung with dj ana's mom/dj "i love edward cullen"s grandma. we had a sumptuous meal of cake cut into stars assembled into a christmas tree-like stack and dribbled with flat whip cream... This was followed by our first Spanish shopping mall experience where we witnessed a phenomenon that bent thinks is very European - groups of old people sitting on benches. Like dozens, not tlaking, just staring off into space. Creepy. Mission accomplished at H&M (which we must say the Spanish version of this store does not reflect well on the country) we headed out to Estremera, the far nether reaches of "Comunidad Madrid" - basically it's the country side but they call it Madrid, trying to fool people for some reason that is a mystery to us non-Spaniards. This would be like calling a small town in Shenandoah Valley part of DC.

But it's beautiful here in Estremera, very picturesque, although FREEZING! We ate an afternoon meal of paella and wine on the sidewalk outside our new home, exchanging pleasantries with old men and Romanian immigrant youth. The white washed stucco walls and the dusty streets, as well as the desert like landscape, had us imagining ourselves as part of the Three Amigos, a comedy classic.



Yes, we know it's set in Mexico, but whatevs. And no, our lives do not revolve around movie references, we just happen to make a lot when we are strangers in a strange land!

We're off to more adventures. Stay tuned!!