It’s a Small World After All. It’s a Small World After All. It’s a small, small world.
Evidence:
Way back at the beginning of my journey, Kristin and I were searching for food in Madrid. We had some troubles finding economic and delicious food in this particular city, and this particular night, we were feeling sort of cranky about it. We stumbled upon a little foreign restaurant that served kebabs and falafel at a very reasonable price. We were quite pleased with ourselves and our meal. When we were almost finished, we noticed that two guys at a table near us were speaking English. One of them motioned to us and asked us where we were from. “The United States,” we responded, then more tentatively, “Nebraska?” (We were by now accustomed to blank stares about our great state). “NO WAY!” he said, and we proceeded to have a nice long conversation with Romaine, who happens to be a med school student at the University of Nebraska Medical Center, right in the middle of beautiful Omaha.
The above picture is of Laura, a very nice girl from New Zealand who Kristin and I met in Sevilla. She was part of our fun Sevilla hostel group (also pictured), and we discovered that both Laura and I were headed to Salamanca to study. She was only going to be in Salamanca for a couple of weeks at a language school, but we enthusiastically made plans to meet up. We talked over the internet in the following weeks, but made no concrete plans. Yet we managed to run into each other three separate times while in Salamanca. I actually bumped into her on her last night here (before she left to travel a while and then head home). We took this picture and hugged goodbye…. Until I saw her the following weekend in the busiest pedestrian district in Madrid, that is. Since this was really really her last night in Spain, we marveled at the odds and said a proper “adios!”
Said weekend in Madrid contained other coincidences. Minutes (less than 5) after Whitney, Nikki, and Elizabeth arrived to our hostel, a guy came out of his room and told Nikki she had a “familiar face.” I rolled my eyes- nice pick up line, right?- but then he said, “Are you from Houston?” And after she said yes, they discovered that they went to high school together and had once attended some musical event together…. Later to reunite in a very small hostel in Madrid. Weird!
On Saturday, Whitney and I were wandering around the Puerta del Sol. Both the day of the week and location indicate that this is a HAPPENING place, filled with national and foreign tourists, street performers (a frog puppet that plays the piano! a mariachi band!), pick pocketers, restaurants, and people peddling goods. Oh, and also Whitney’s former high school classmate. He’s studying in Madrid this semester… but that doesn’t mean that they should see each other in the busiest part of the city on the ONLY weekend she’s in Spain!!
Not yet convinced? Well, today I returned to Madrid with my program. I got to see lots of by now familiar sites, such as the Prado Art Museum and Royal Palace. I returned to the Parque de Buen Retiro, which is literally one of my most favorite places on the planet. (Note to Whitney: the dog whisperer was still there, but the “saints go marching in” band was just packing up when I arrived. And I rowed a rowboat!) ANYWAYS, strolling between the park and the art museum, I saw a boy who looked/walked/was dressed like Brett Major, a good friend from high school who’s studying in Sevilla this semester. I studied him for a good long while. I thought about yelling “Brett!” because what would be the consequences if it wasn’t Brett? But then I let the situation pass. When he turned his head, it didn’t really look like him. 1.5 hours later, in a semi-crowded small room of the Prado (which is GIGANTIC!), a boy invades my tour group and says my name. It is Brett. We embrace. I abandon my tour momentarily (actually we trail slowly behind them), and we chat about our Spanish lives and Omaha. We lament the fact that I am only in Madrid for a few hours more. I marvel that I ran into him not once but twice. We embrace again. We say adios for now.
I am becoming convinced that Madrid is a small pueblo, but a quick reference to Rick Steves informs me that it is actually a city of 3.2 million. Solution? It’s a small world. I rest my case.
Way back at the beginning of my journey, Kristin and I were searching for food in Madrid. We had some troubles finding economic and delicious food in this particular city, and this particular night, we were feeling sort of cranky about it. We stumbled upon a little foreign restaurant that served kebabs and falafel at a very reasonable price. We were quite pleased with ourselves and our meal. When we were almost finished, we noticed that two guys at a table near us were speaking English. One of them motioned to us and asked us where we were from. “The United States,” we responded, then more tentatively, “Nebraska?” (We were by now accustomed to blank stares about our great state). “NO WAY!” he said, and we proceeded to have a nice long conversation with Romaine, who happens to be a med school student at the University of Nebraska Medical Center, right in the middle of beautiful Omaha.
The above picture is of Laura, a very nice girl from New Zealand who Kristin and I met in Sevilla. She was part of our fun Sevilla hostel group (also pictured), and we discovered that both Laura and I were headed to Salamanca to study. She was only going to be in Salamanca for a couple of weeks at a language school, but we enthusiastically made plans to meet up. We talked over the internet in the following weeks, but made no concrete plans. Yet we managed to run into each other three separate times while in Salamanca. I actually bumped into her on her last night here (before she left to travel a while and then head home). We took this picture and hugged goodbye…. Until I saw her the following weekend in the busiest pedestrian district in Madrid, that is. Since this was really really her last night in Spain, we marveled at the odds and said a proper “adios!”
Said weekend in Madrid contained other coincidences. Minutes (less than 5) after Whitney, Nikki, and Elizabeth arrived to our hostel, a guy came out of his room and told Nikki she had a “familiar face.” I rolled my eyes- nice pick up line, right?- but then he said, “Are you from Houston?” And after she said yes, they discovered that they went to high school together and had once attended some musical event together…. Later to reunite in a very small hostel in Madrid. Weird!
On Saturday, Whitney and I were wandering around the Puerta del Sol. Both the day of the week and location indicate that this is a HAPPENING place, filled with national and foreign tourists, street performers (a frog puppet that plays the piano! a mariachi band!), pick pocketers, restaurants, and people peddling goods. Oh, and also Whitney’s former high school classmate. He’s studying in Madrid this semester… but that doesn’t mean that they should see each other in the busiest part of the city on the ONLY weekend she’s in Spain!!
Not yet convinced? Well, today I returned to Madrid with my program. I got to see lots of by now familiar sites, such as the Prado Art Museum and Royal Palace. I returned to the Parque de Buen Retiro, which is literally one of my most favorite places on the planet. (Note to Whitney: the dog whisperer was still there, but the “saints go marching in” band was just packing up when I arrived. And I rowed a rowboat!) ANYWAYS, strolling between the park and the art museum, I saw a boy who looked/walked/was dressed like Brett Major, a good friend from high school who’s studying in Sevilla this semester. I studied him for a good long while. I thought about yelling “Brett!” because what would be the consequences if it wasn’t Brett? But then I let the situation pass. When he turned his head, it didn’t really look like him. 1.5 hours later, in a semi-crowded small room of the Prado (which is GIGANTIC!), a boy invades my tour group and says my name. It is Brett. We embrace. I abandon my tour momentarily (actually we trail slowly behind them), and we chat about our Spanish lives and Omaha. We lament the fact that I am only in Madrid for a few hours more. I marvel that I ran into him not once but twice. We embrace again. We say adios for now.
I am becoming convinced that Madrid is a small pueblo, but a quick reference to Rick Steves informs me that it is actually a city of 3.2 million. Solution? It’s a small world. I rest my case.
I was really confused when I read this... "Why is Emily telling us all of this again?" Then I remembered that most of the reading public was not present for these events. I can't believe you rowed in a rowboat! Let's go for our honeymoon so I can row one too.
ResponderEliminarOHMYGOSH. THAT'S CRAZY!!!
ResponderEliminarif only i could happen to run into you on the street, my life would be complete...
Yaya!! I second what Alison says!
ResponderEliminarI love Rick Steves! And I love poopykinskins!
ResponderEliminar