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There were two and a half million people, at least, in Washington D.C. for the inauguration of President Obama. 
The crowds were enormous. I mean, I saw them in pictures. What maybe you didn't see in pictures were the 600 people crammed into a small room at the Hotel Intercontinental on Paseo de la Castellano in Madrid. Not nearly as historic nor as cold, but we were just as excited. We also had jumbo screens and were uncomfortably close to strangers. There was jamón and fried corn kernels...I'm still in Spain, after all. Being in Spain, I haven't really had the chance to be surrounded by large groups of Americans. Watching the inauguration was similar to an out-of-body experience. Really, it was an out-of-country experience. In this crowded smelly room, English was the dominate language and everyone looked...well, American. The emotion and excitement contained in this small spa
ce was astounding, unlike anything I had experienced in politics. Leaving this space, for some reason, I had a truly strange feeling, like the world had somehow changed. I mean, I know that I know better, that one election will not change the world. However, I was slightly disappointed that the streets weren't bursting into song, or that red, white, and blue confetti wasn't raining down from the sky. Everything seemed...normal. I did my part by smiling profusely at every passerby. That's a change.
It doesn't snow here. Or so I thought. After spending about ten hours in the Madrid airport due to about a foot of snow, I thought I was done with it. Winter is different here. It's not as cold (single digits in Celsius aren't as cold as single digits in Fahrenheit), and i
t only rains. Rarely do we see the white stuff here (Cocaine, highest in EU, snow no). Except for last week, as we got a few inches over the course of the day. This may not seem significant for many northern US residents. Born and raised in the northeast part of the country, a few inches is good for maybe a delayed opening, but it's cleaned up and the roads cleared in a matter of hours. No one panics, no one is snapping photos of fallen snow...it's just snow. After seeing the chaos that three inches (MAXIMUM) of snow can wreck on a major metropolitan city, I have gained an appreciation for the snowplows and salt trucks. The morning of January 9th (the infamous day), I went to work like any other day, but I noticed some flurries. My first reacti
on was disbelief, as it's rarely cold enough here to snow and it's even rarer when it actually does something. My second reaction was that it would probably stop by the time I got off the metro. Arriving at work, it was picking up steam, and I walked into the teachers' room, in which everyone was talking about...what else? It continued all through the day, and whenever I passed another American in the school grounds, we exchanged a shake of the head and "It's still going!" At lunch, I walked to a student's home for tutoring, nearly falling probably about 20 times. When it's never really that cold, you don't put salt on the sidewalks. And then, when it snows and there's no salt on the sidewalks, it's like ice-skating for free. You shouldn't attempt this with cars, especially when no one knows how to drive in the snow. The grown-up equivalent of bumper cars isn't as fun, as I witn
essed. Honestly, I really didn't think that things were out of the norm until I got home. My roommate had been sent home from work early. The public transportation buses had stopped running. People had left their cars at work and taken the metro. University classes were canceled. The airport was complete and totally anarchy. For about two inches of snow. While the madness left an impression, the complete glee of the madrileños playing in the snow was truly more remarkable. Everyone was smiling, I saw groups of adults building snowmen and having snowball fights. Kids were everywhere, with their parents snapping pictures of them. People looked genuinely happy. There was barely a patch of snow that remained untouched. Who knew a little bit of snow could be such a big deal, bringing joy and chaos at the same time. Wow.
ce was astounding, unlike anything I had experienced in politics. Leaving this space, for some reason, I had a truly strange feeling, like the world had somehow changed. I mean, I know that I know better, that one election will not change the world. However, I was slightly disappointed that the streets weren't bursting into song, or that red, white, and blue confetti wasn't raining down from the sky. Everything seemed...normal. I did my part by smiling profusely at every passerby. That's a change.
