This was not what I was expecting.
At all.
In fact, I had been dreading it all day long! From the time I woke up until somewhere between the first and second beer, I felt like I was under that pesky little rain cloud that kept pulling at my little plaid peach shirt and telling me that my grand plan of running off to Brazil was "doido de mais" (really ridiculous) and that I needed to grow up and come up with a Big Girl plan. During our Skype conversation the night before, B had told me that traveling around Brazil with your boyfriend and actually living and working there were completely different things. He told me he felt like I was only going there because I had already tried Portland for Julia and Madrid for L and that he and his country were last choice and that I would be just as disappointed that things had changed there, too, since I was last there two years ago, as I have been with the past two places I lived. He said professionally I wouldn't make that much money and that Brazilian culture wasn't as magical as I've made it out to be from my limited experiences. He said he would love for me to be there, but that it if I was just doing it because he was there, it was a mistake. He threw it in somewhere in there that I hadn't expressed excitement about him considering visiting me in Spain so basically that was the same thing - only it didn't bother him (right!) like his lack of reaction clearly bothers me.
The thing about B is, he has this way of TELLING me who I am and what I am thinking... Often in a superior manner. He does it with such authority sometimes that he can even start to convince me for a little while of who I am or what I am thinking. And this - I slowly came to realize as the day went on - was what put such a rain cloud over me. I love B, but I don't want to be somewhere where people have preconceived notions about me. That is why I love traveling so much. You can be whoever you want to be and nobody knows who you have been in the past. I think it is a great way to grow and live. So the thought of moving somewhere fresh and new, but having somebody who is often reminding me of things I've done in the past I am not proud of, or who is telling me what I am thinking based on my thought patterns from two or three years ago is exactly what I do NOT need nor want. I want to go somewhere and have people fall in love with ME for me and not have pent up issues with me that get brought up and make me feel like crawling in a hole and not coming out. Maybe this is idealistic, but I call it a perk of living out of a suitcase. ;)
And so I spent my day going between wondering if he was right about all he'd said and worrying that he wasn't right but he'd still made me second guess myself so strongly that maybe it wasn't even worth it anyway. I ping ponged between wanting to let out a desperate, upset squeal and wanting to find a dark place a cry out my confusion! Add to this the fact I got five hours of sleep and I was spent.
The thought of going to Madrid to meet some new Brazilian was enough to really send me over the edge!!
But I made myself go. (And oh how thankful I am that I did!)
I never want to do anything socially risky because I always think it will just turn out to be lame and a waste of time. My two week couch surfing adventure was like one of those crash courses in Facing Your Fear and, thanks to my amazing experiences, taught me not to be such a pessimistic chicken sh*t. ;) And so, despite being exhausted. Despite having had a bad, yucky day. Despite my questioning of my true love for all things Brazilian. Despite my fear of meeting new people bubbling up. Despite it all, I told myself to suck it up, and if nothing else, it would give me something different to blog about tomorrow.
I walked around Madrid for two and a half hours waiting for our meet up time. I arrived at the bar ten minutes early. I was ready to do this and go home already. As I stood outside, waiting, I sorta hoped he just wasn't going to show up. It was eight minutes past when he texted me, "Hey! I am running late. Hopefully you are one of those girls who always runs behind! Be there in 20 minutes."
Efffffffffffffff. >_<
The great irony was that ANY OTHER day, I would be that girl that rolls in fifteen minutes late. But the one time I get somewhere EARLY, the other person is running behind. I wasn't upset, as I could almost hear karma laughing down at me and realized that of anybody I know, I am the last who should get even a little perturbed about such a thing. Brother!
I thought about ignoring the test, pretending that my phone had died and I waited but finally left. I was just that blah. I was certain even if I did stay, I would be a blob of pure blahness, so really it would be for everyone's good if I just went home.
But Mature Chelsea won and so I wandered the streets of Malasaña for a half hour - which, may I say, turned out to actually be really awesome. I had never been that deep into Malasaña and didn't even know those parts existed! There are so many adorable cases and alternative bars. There was a super chic ballet school, a really cool bike shop, a little chocolate store and a few hip vintage stores. I found a doughnut cafe, a cupcake cafe and a crepe cafe. I found about ten restaurants that were packed that I would love to go to. And the street art was incredible, to boot? It was an entire neighborhood of alternative and awesome nightlife and I was utterly enthralled!! By the time I made my way back to the bar, he had already had half of a beer while waiting for me! Haha.
The bar itself was really adorable. It had cute little black and white drawings on the walls that I wanted mor than anything to color in with bright Crayola markers! The owner of the bar was really nice and fosters rescued animals. This week he had a young black lab named Lucas who was seriously playful. At one point another lady came in with a two month old white puppy who was adorable but feisty. The two dogs played (i.e. tried to kill each other) while the foster parents exchanged doggie stories. :) It was certainly a unique vibe for a bar! ;)
Meanwhile, New Brazilian Friend and I talked and giggled and got to know each other a bit. The best part? It was 90% in Portuguese! I am realllllly slow when I speak, and I know my accent is absurdly American... But gosh darnit, I could. make myself understood and I could understand 95% of what h was telling and asking me! ^_^ This may be overly optimistic, but I dare say my level is decent enough that if I really invest myself in studying and practicing, I dare say I could actually get pretty darned good at this language in the next few months/year. People are so supportive when I try to speak, and they are very patient with me, too. I know they speak slower for me, but that is totally fine with me! I feel like Brazilians are so enchanted by the idea of an American actually learning their language that they're more than happy to help you out with it. When I speak Spanish and mess up I get embarrassed and feel like I am being judged (who knows if there's any truth to my feelings), but I mess up in every sentence I speak in Portuguese, but everyone I've talked to is all smiles and just throws me the word when I get it wrong and asks me to continue my story. It's like an alternate universes with these Brazilian people... :) Hahaha!
Anyway, after two beers and two hours of attempting (and not completely failing) to speak Portuguese, it was time to walk down the street to the club/bar with Forró Thursdays!!
Now, as with the language, I have never formally been taught forró (pronounced: "faux-hoe" haha!). My "learning" of it began three years ago in B's room. :) Mostly, he just lead and I followed, and we were set. It is an incredibly simple dance compared to something like West Coast Swing - and ESPECIALLY compared to a dance like Argentine Tango!! Because of this, the dance is really completely dependent on the guy - on how well he can lead (and, yeah, how well a girl can follow) and how much he can mix it up.
And this is why I love it so much! I don't have to think - in fact, I actually have to attempt to not think at all. I only have to give all my control up and follow whatever the guy does. When I was in my first partner dance class in 12th grade, our teacher had us do an exercise in which we had to close our eyes while following a lead. At first it was rather petrifying! But after practice, it became so relaxing that it almost felt like a form of meditation. Remember playing "Jello" with friends in the backseat of a car, where you all had to be relatively relaxed and fall wherever the car made you fall? That is a little what it feels like. :)
Anyway - we walked all of four blocks to the bar and went inside where they were stamping hands. Next to the stamp and ink pad was a list of names. I peered over at it and there it was - my name right in the middle of it!!
I've never had my name on a list to get into a club before!!!! ^_^
When I walked through those doors, I felt like a walked through a portal, linking Spain to Brazil! Guys were dancing a samba line dance to an amazing live Brazilian band on stage. Bliss. ^_^
We stood in the periphery and he told me (in Portuguese) a little about all the Brazilians there he knew while I nodded along and tried to study the girls' styling. ;) After being there for a few songs, it was time to jump in and hope I didn't make a fool of myself. Ha. I could tell the guy was a little nervous to dance with me - as in, Americans don't exactly have a great reputation when it comes to having rhythm. :) But I was uber confident from the first step and much to my excitement, he was a decidedly great lead! A few minutes into it he exclaimed that I was a really good dancer. I giggled, but he said it a few more times throughout the night. WIN. ;)
At one point during the night I was leaning on a chair, sort of swaying to the music, but not really committing to anything because I was more concerned with watching the other dancers and trying to figure out a rough idea of what the songs were about. He looked over at me doing this and joked, "Don't be so American!" I authentically laughed and stopped my awkward swaying a gawking as best I could, but am pretty sure it did nothing for how American I was looking in that moment. :)
The things is, it doesn't matter how much you travel or how many experiences you have in other languages or with people of other cultures... In the end, you're always just American. You can become bilingual or trilingual or multilingual, but you can never become bicultural or tricultural or multicultural - even when you start to feel that way. :) I actually really like this. Being an American from the get-go, I'm automatically underestimated in many ways because of the stereotypes - some ill-founded, but some disturbingly accurate. ;) Americans are often thought to speak no languages other than English - so when I say I have studied six I immediately become and intriguing anomaly! Americans are thought to be uninterested and uneducated about other cultures - so when I talk about my travels, I become an even larger anomaly. And, of course, Americans are often thought to be awful at dancing - so when I can follow with relative rhythm, guys are pleasantly surprised. ;) Bahaha!
It is just so weird for me, since I clearly identify as an American girl, but my top three loves of travel, language and dance are things that are deemed so UNamerican. This gives me an incredible amount of self confidence when abroad and is one of the reasons I believe I thrive so well when I'm outside of the US. I am truly appreciated for who I am and what I love and am found to be incredibly unique and intriguing, whereas in the US, I mostly just don't fit it with the mainstream, which makes me feel like a sort of mutation rather than a rare specimen. ;-P
Anyway, we danced and danced and danced... It had been years since I'd been to a dance with a guy and I forgot now ridiculously intoxicating it can be! I remember the first time I got the "dance high"; it was in that 12th grade partner dance class (such a better option than gym for your PE credit!!) and a student who had been in the class last year came in to visit and show us some steps. He had been dancing since the class and gotten pretty good at East Coast Swing and our teacher wanted us to have the chance to feel what it was like to dance with a lead who knew what he was doing. I remember I danced with him for the first and only time to a full song on our water break. I had no idea those three minutes would change my life so much! The song began, I offered my hand, and he was off like a racehorse, leading me through tucks and turns and even did an aerial or two! The music was so fast and he was so good that I couldn't stop smiling and giggling. When it was over, I wobbled over to the water fountain, dying of thirst, and remember thinking to myself, completely baffled and blissed out: "That was WAY better than the best make-out session I've ever had!!!"
Hahahaha. ^_^
But really - it's true. To dance with someone who can really, truly lead you... Damn.
Between dances we'd go outside to cool down and talk and let me just say that to be able to switch between three languages with one person is ridiculously cool! :) We didn't end up leaving until 3am, and I didn't end up getting home until 4am! That has got to be the latest I've ever stayed out on a school night! ;) SO worth it!
There was no part of me that expected the night to turn out to be so awesome, but it definitely ranks in the top three most fun nights I've had since I've been back in Madrid! Heck yes to the new and improved adventurous as hell Chelsinha. ;)
XOXO
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