MADness

The madness that is Madrid, or “MADness,” has taught me something profound about partying. When I’m really serious about partying, by which I mean no-nonsense, burn-down-the-city, tell-your-future-grandkids-when-their-mom-isn’t-around partying, I don’t drink alcohol. There are three reasons why: interacting with various girls in Spanish, Portuguese, Italian and simplified English requires quick thinking and total focus; late-night navigating from bars to nightclubs via metro and bus necessitates complete awareness; and dancing nonstop until daylight demands proper hydration and, if you have moves (I don’t), fresh breath.

PARTY HARDY: The "Tisdall Theory of Sober Raging" pays dividends

    

     Madrid truly never sleeps, but I’ve done a lot more than just party. Last Thursday, the international student club, ESN, put on a Spanish dinner with excellent food and even better company. The highlight of the night was when I was pulled up in front of everybody and had to do the Macarena as part of a game. I was pretty bad, but at least they didn’t force to sing my country’s national anthem like a guy from Slovenia had to do!

BAR CRAWL MADRILEÑO: Great night with Matt and our
friends (left to right) from Morocco, Miami, and Toronto.

     Friday night, ESN organized a “Beer Tour,” which involved going from bar to bar as a means of exploring the nightlife scene. Weekends in Madrid are loco, or rather, loquísimo. It’s as if the student bodies of the SEC schools all collided in Five Points, except that each school spoke a different language! Saturday, ESN held a “City Race,” in which the exchange students were broken into teams and had to run around the city accomplishing certain challenges to get points. For example, in front of the theater, we had to ask random people on the street who the directors of various Spanish films were. Then we had to run to the front of the opera house and sing “Mamma Mia” as a group, with one point earned for a crowd forming to watch, two points for applause, and three if anyone off the street joined in. This was followed by drinks in a pub, where I made an important discovery about my own ignorance.

AMICI: Standing outside La Catedral de
Toledo with my Italian homeboy, Francesco

     One of the most astounding parts of studying abroad in Europe has been realizing how little I know about planet Earth. Having discovered this about myself, I’ve started bringing a pen with me everywhere I go - for having girls write their numbers on my hand, yes - but more importantly, so that whenever I meet a new person, I can have them draw me a map of where they’re from. There’s no substitute for a map, no matter how crudely drawn on a napkin, for explaining who you are and where you come from. Take my friend Francesco. He is very light-skinned for an Italian, a fact that he explained by drawing a map of Europe and charting the migration of his ancestors. In addition, he labelled on “The Boot” where he grew up, where he vacations, and where he goes to university. Over the last week, I’ve been keeping all these maps because they tell a story, and I’m slowing but surely piecing together the histories and geographies of my fellow students.

(Note: After embarrassing myself by saying that, for instance, Budapest is in Turkey, there is literally nothing more amusing than turning the tables on them while they’re laughing their heads off and drawing a map of the US. When I divide it into three sections and ask them to point out DC, LA, and Chicago, somehow they’re not laughing so hard anymore.)

     Sunday was spent wandering around Toledo, known as “the city of the three cultures” because it was ruled by Christians, Jews, and Muslims over the course of its long and violent history. The cathedral was really impressive and I learned a lot about Spain’s past. Plus, I sat next to a really interesting girl from Poland on the bus ride who told me all about her many excursions throughout Europe, which she did exclusively by hitchhiking and couchsurfing. She excited my adventurous spirit and inspired me to abandon my preconceptions of traditional travel and immerse myself in the European way of life. And she wrote her number on my hand, right next to the map of Central Europe.

TOLEDO: An amazing history and breathtaking views to match