Greetings once again from Spain.
Yesterday, I spent most of the day at the Royal Palace of Aranjuez, exploring the palace and gardens. I took an early commuter train from Madrid that traveled along the railroad right of way of the first railroad in Spain, connecting the capital to the summer home of the royal family. The royal family no longer uses the palace as a residence--a security guard told me there isn't even a working kitchen--but it is still sometimes used for ceremonial occasions. You can read more about the history of the palace at the hyperlink that I created above. However, I will say that the palace was very ornate and much nicer looking than the El Pardo Palace that I visited last Sunday. Two rooms of the palace were especially unique: the Salon Arabé (Arab Salon), an ornate room decorated to resember the Alhambra and that was used by the King for smoking (supposedly Charles III (the Spanish one) was a big smoker); and the porcelain room where all of the walls were lined with porcelain figurines representing scenes from the orient--this was also one of Charles III favorite rooms. When I arrived at the palace, there was no line to get in; when I left the tour, there was a very long line. Yesterday was the national holiday of Spain (Día de la Hispanidad) and many people obviously came to Aranjuez to enjoy the palace and gardens. The gardens were quite large and included trees from the new world, such as Magnolias from North America and palm trees from South America. I especially enjoyed seeing many Sycamore trees lining the walk along the Tagus river. I spent well over an hour in the gardens and definitely got some good walking in. I ate lunch at a nearby sidewalk cafe in the town before returning in the late afternoon to Madrid.
As you may remember from my trip in May, I had tried to see Susi, the daughter of the Señora that I lived with 32 years ago when I studied here but was unfortunately unable to connect. So abot a month ago, I wrote to her and included a photo of us from all those years ago. In the letter I gave her my phone number and asked her to contact me through WhatsApp which she did. And last night we met up in front of the old apartment, where she now lives, and went to have drinks and some food at a nearby outdoor cafe (there are thousands of them in Madrid, much like Paris). We talked for four hours and it was like the old days when we all used to sit around the table after lunch for what they call la sobremesa (after table), a time for conversation. I was able to learn more about her mother and her condition. She is in a nursing home and just turned 100 years old. Her mind is fine but she has macular degeneration, poor hearing, and can no longer walk having broken both of her hips during a fall a few years ago. Susi and I talked a lot about the civil war and what her mother went through. I was able to fill in many of the gaps in the story of her mother that I always wondered about. The Señora, Ana, did not like to talk about the war or the dictatorship and whenever we asked questions, she would answer but would become so upset that I was afraid to ask more. I have never seen that kind of pain and anger in another person.
According to Susi, Ana was about 14 when the war started and 17 when it ended. She lost friends, saw dead people in the streets after numerous bombings, and faced great uncertainty when her father was imprisoned after the war for being a socialist, even though he hadn't killed anyone or even been in the fighting--he was an accountant at a bank. I knew he had been imprisoned, but I didn't know why. According to Susi, he was tricked into turning himself in when the francoists announced that if you hadn't killed anyone, you could go to the police station and receive a light sentence instead of death. This he did and was sentenced to 30 years in prison, although he was released after 10 because he was sick. I have read about the francoist jails: they were overcrowded, and the prisoners were often tortured and starved. I can't imagine what that was like for her. Susi also told me that for her mom, the post war period was much worse than the war itself. According to Susi, there was almost no food in the cities. The francoist government distributed to each person each week one egg, one loaf of bread, and one cup of oil (or something like that). Her mom remembers being so hungry that she frequently fainted. The post war period and repression went on throught most of the 40s. No wonder Ana never liked to talk about it. These stories made me cry. A lot of other things suddenly made sense, such as why she would get angry if we didn't eat everything on our plate (which I often didn't do, being a very picky eater at the time). But we didn't just talk about war. We also talked about our families current events in Spain, life, etc. It was a delightful evening and the best part of the trip. In fact, the whole trip was worth it just for that.
Susi wanted to try to arrange for me to see Ana today, but it did not work out due to the demands of Susi's work and the rules of the nursing home which require that I be accompanied by a family member. I am disappointed but also confident that I did all that I could. Susi showed me some videos of Ana and I am going to record one for her to show her when she sees her this Sunday. Susi also promised to stay in touch and let me know if anything happens to her mom. I assured Susi that she and I would see each other again as I intend to visit Spain more in the coming years.
I have not done much today as I am exhausted from all the walking in the cemetery two days ago and the palace gardens yesterday (I am out of shape). This morning I rode a city bus up the Castellana, a large tree lined boulevard that connects the old and new parts of Madrid. For me, this is one of the most beautiful streets in the world as it is broad and lined with trees and cafes, and has monuments at several intersections. The neighborhood where I once lived is just off this street by the Santiago Benabeu stadium, the home of the Real Madrid soccer team. I came back by way of Metro and ate a calamari sandwhich and patatas bravas (fried potato wedges with a slightly spicy sauce) at a cafe in the Plaza Mayor. I walked around a tiny bit afteward but have been resting in my hotel most of the afternoon. Tomorrow, I have a morning tour of the Brunete battle aread west of Madrid and I want to be well rested for it.
Hasta luego!
Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo
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