I love Madrid.
In two days I’ve had two absolutely incredibly, truly and uniquely Spanish experiences. Yesterday was the bullfight, which I have to write a paper on tomorrow and therefore will write about here tomorrow too (might as well conserve the brainpower and do all the thinking in the same time span, ¿tu sabes?). Then today. Ah, today. Hoy. What a día. As you may or may not know, Real Madrid won La Liga (the Spanish soccer league) last night. They haven’t won in several years, so the whole city is elated. Tonight at 7 there was a celebration in Plaza Cibeles, near the center of Madrid.
After class a bunch of us walked to Plaza Colón, halfway between our school and Plaza Cibeles, to wait for the bus that was carrying the team. I am a Barcelona fan, Madrid’s mortal enemy, so I wasn’t sure if it was morally acceptable for me to go and had a serious discutimiento with myself. Ultimately I decided since I love every single other aspect of the city of Madrid and above all I’m really a fan of good soccer more than any team, I could justify my attendance at the celebración. So off we went to Colón, where we were joined by what seemed like half of Madrid — decked out in Ronaldo and Casillas jerseys, chugging 40’s of Mahou beer and singing one of the Real Madrid songs: “Campeónes, campeónes, olé olé olé.”
The police escort came down the road (three times the size of the president of Polond’s escort in Portugal) and then came the bus with the entire team on the top deck. I was, like, 15 feet from the entire equipo. I almost vomited from excitement. Luckily I didn’t because I was so close they would have seen me!!! Anyway, the bus passed and then we followed it down its path to Plaza Cibeles. In Plaza Cibeles it felt like todo el mundo was there, from tiny niños on their parents’ shoulders to abuelos. There were huge speakers set up playing all of Madrid’s songs (as well as “We are the Champions,” por supuesto). Everyone was singing and dancing with the team on the bus in the middle.
La energía en la plaza se sientó electrica. Spain is approaching 26% unemployment and their economy is on the verge of failing. But the word crisis might as well not have existed in Plaza Cibeles tonight. The whole city cared only about its team celebrating los campeónes de La Liga. Although it was a huge crowd with lots of alcohol and chaos, no one was out of control. I looked up at the Spanish flag blowing in the wind at the top of Banco de España (a BEAUTIFUL building) and then at Casillas and Pepe dancing on top of the bus while thousands of people sang the Real Madrid anthems and I got so caught up in the excitement I started yelling ¡Hala Madrid! (This is the worst move a FC Barcelona fan can commit. It’s like what Benedict Arnold did to America but worse.)
But even though Madrid winning La Liga means that Barcelona lost it, after tonight I was actually a little glad Madrid won this year (I might have to rename this blog Elora’s Deepest Darkest Confessions). I know we have big celebrations in the States and people go crazy over the Super Bowl and the World Series, but it’s not the same. Granted I don’t care about American football the way I do European football and I consider watching a baseball game cruel and unusual punishment, but the Real Madrid celebration was still something completely different.
According to my host mom, the one and only time Spain has been united since the fall of their former dictator Franco in 1975 was two years ago when Spain won the World Cup. As I traveled through Spain I noticed that too — the different provinces speak their own languages, eat their own foods, even fly their own flags above or, many times, instead of the Spanish flag. The one and only thing that has ever brought the people of Spain together was soccer, and you could practically see that level of energy flying with the streamers in the air. Así que para que pueda agradacerles a los jugadores de Real y la gente de Madrid por una experienca que jamás olvidaré, voy a decirlo una vez más…¡Hala Madrid!
La vida bonita 
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