Coslada and Memories of El Escorial

I had to go to Coslada. Being forgetful as I am, I left my piano books at home. 3 months is much too long to go without these things so my dad graciously agreed to mail them to me. For reasons unknown, this precious package ended up in a warehouse in Coslada instead of arriving at my home in Alcalá. It’s fine. I took a bus to the train and then a bus to a plaza where I walked 15 minutes. I didn’t mind the journey so much though. It was a beautiful day and for some reason there were so many people in the streets to observe. I got to walk through several parks and past a schoolyard full of screaming children during recess. It very much reminded me of when we visited El Escorial at the very beginning of the program. While waiting for our entrance time we ate our packed lunches in the huge plaza surrounding the palace. There were a lot of kids running around. From what I could understand, they go to school within the walls of El Escorial and were at recess when we happened to be there. The whole situation was funny for a couple reasons. Firstly, kids are the same whirlwind of energy regardless of where they grow up. And these (and the ones in Coslada) were no exception. They run around giggling as they play with their imaginations, tag, and fútbol. I often miss the life of a child and not having a care in the world beyond playing with their friends.

The second reason the scene was so funny involved 6 or 7 little boys kicking a ball against the wall of El Escorial in some version of wall ball. Of course I played similar games when I was in Elementary School. However, I was not kicking my ball against the wall of a 400+ year old building where the most powerful man in the world (at that time) lived. The comical part was the contrast between these two situations. Between the time of King Phillip and this kid kicking a ball against the same wall that the king probably touched at some point. Between the two of us playing the same game (separated by 12 years) but he is kicking against a monument that people travel half way across the world to see. Interesting. Coslada contained much the same scene (nix El Escorial) of unknowingly illustrating unity across all cultures and time.

For the record, I picked up the package completely in Spanish without the postal worker knowing that I wasn’t from Spain. Also, while waiting for the train, I took a survey given by a young man who approached me. I did it in Spanish despite the fact that it was a long, rather technical survey. Boo yah!

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