Category: Culture

Tycho Brahe Planetarium in Copenhagen, Denmark

A Shooting in Copenhagen

Joseph Lyttleton5 Comments

(This post fleshes out this thread of mine from Twitter.)

On July 3rd, as Americans were in the middle of their Independence Day weekend celebrations*, there was a shooting at a mall in Copenhagen, Denmark. Three people were killed, many more injured, and the 22-year-old shooter was taken into custody. Of course, it’s likely you didn’t hear much about this shooting because of the even deadlier mass shooting that occurred on July 4th in Illinois.

For most Americans, if they heard about the Copenhagen mall shooting at all, it was possibly because they read about Harry Styles canceling his concert, which was supposed to take place that night near the mall.

It is possible, though, if you lurk in certain parts of the internet, that you’ve seen this shooting (and a similar shooting in Oslo, Norway a couple weeks ago) upheld as proof that gun control doesn’t work. The refrain (almost celebratory) is, “See, even in Denmark, the country with some of the strictest gun laws in the world, mass shootings still happen.”

So, I have to say something.

In the wake of the Robb Elementary School shooting in Uvalde, Texas in May, the US government managed to pass some gun control(-related) laws. Most of us who want stricter gun control in the US, even those who celebrated their passage, will admit these regulations are insufficient. They’re a step in the right direction, but unlikely to do much to staunch the bleeding. Something is better than nothing, so I’m glad the law was signed by President Biden. But more is needed.

Let’s look at Denmark.

Tycho Brahe Planetarium in Copenhagen, Denmark

Two shootings in Copenhagen, Denmark

I’ve only been to Copenhagen once, on a long layover in 2016. I had 6 hours to walk the city, which is basically all I did. I did have lunch in a college/hipster-y part of town. As I ate at a high top table in the bar area, the bartender and I talked gun control.

The year before, Copenhagen had had one of the worst shootings in its modern history. A man killed 2 people and wounded 5 cops. The bartender (who spoke flawless English, naturally) explained that pretty much everyone in the country agreed on their gun laws. He said that people in Denmark didn’t understand the US’s obsession with guns (a sentiment I’ve heard often since then from people in other countries). For the Danes, a shooting happened and they were thankful they had strong gun control. They’d have accepted even stricter laws. 

No, the laws didn’t stop the 2015 Copenhagen shooting, nor Sunday’s shooting (3 dead, more wounded). But it was 7+ years between 2015 and this shooting. This recent mall shooting is the worst Denmark has had since 2015. It’s absolutely a tragedy; one America has every few days (often not even making national news). 

Gun control is not an impenetrable wall, but it is a wall. It works to lessen a flood. Many on the Right (and dishearteningly on the Left these days too) will point to this Copenhagen shooting as proof that gun control doesn’t work. But two shootings in seven years proves it does. 

These skeptics will say America’s much larger population explains the disparity, but the stats show differently: 12 in every 100,000 Americans are killed by guns, compared to 1 in every 100,000 Danes. Looking at the European Union broadly, it’s not even close. (You can check for yourself.) Guns don’t kill people. People with easy access to and a bizarre fetishization of guns kill people.

The Law of the Land

So much of the opposition to any kind of gun control is predicated on this utterly ridiculous standard that if a single law can’t stop every shooting, it’s pointless. This is the base argument of every gun nut who opposes gun control, and it is, plainly, stupid. Seatbelt laws don’t stop every crash or every car death, but statistics clearly show they have saved lives. That’s the whole point.

The purpose of gun laws – the purpose of any law – is not to make the world perfect but to broadly improve the outcomes of the citizens of the world. This tragedy in Copenhagen isn’t lessened because Denmark has gun control laws (though perhaps it was less severe than it otherwise would have been; we can’t know). But there are certainly less tragedies in Denmark like it because of them. 

When is America going to figure that out? How many children need to die – or live in constant fear – in their classrooms before the US takes substantive action? How many regular people going about their lives have to be slaughtered before we stop giving credence to the death cult known as the NRA? I’m not a policy expert. I don’t know what mix of gun laws, mental health policies, and social programs will have the biggest impact. But almost any laws would be better than the status quo. Again, the most recent law, while welcome, isn’t enough.

(Maybe we could start by banning the AR-15? And, yes, I know that the AR stands for ArmaLite rife. I’ve even fired one.)

An AR-15 rifle on a truck bed.

Sadly, as with so many other issues lately, I’m afraid there is no number of deaths and tragedies that can get America to act like a sane nation. It feels, increasingly, like a nation on the brink.

There is no quick fix for those who have been directly affected by a mass shooting, whether in Copenhagen or the US. But, perhaps, with time, there will be a general sense of peace for Danes knowing such a tragedy is blessedly uncommon. Will America ever know that peace?

~~~

*I wrote most of this post on the morning of the 4th before the mass shooting at an Independence Day parade in Highland Park, a Chicago suburb. With at least 6 dead, it was a grim reminder that even when other countries have the rare mass shooting, there will always be one in America soon after to overshadow it. America’s gun culture is unsustainable.

Yes, Tucker Carlson, there is a QAnon

Joseph Lyttleton

For over a year, I’ve been a regular contributor at The Millennial Source, an up-and-coming news source that pulls back from the breaking news headlines to provide context and background. With the constant stream of news stories and IMPORTANT ISSUES shooting at us from the firehose that is social media, TMS’s mission is to help you feel less overwhelmed by, well, everything. It can be quite noisy out there.

As a TMS writer, I have had the opportunity to write about an array of topics that mean a great deal to me (long-term readers of 10×10 will know I have a lot of varied interests). I’m particularly proud of two recent series, one on the racial inequality of the US justice system in terms of both arrests and recidivism rates, and another on the Dasgupta Review and its solutions for climate change.

At the same time, I’ve enjoyed writing about Dolly Parton, SpaceX, and incredibly dumb right-wing grifters. Most of the articles I write deal with either politics or science, or the intersection of both.

If there is one topic I’ve covered more than any other, though, it’s conspiracy theories, and, more specifically, QAnon. By this point, you’ve probably read or heard quite a bit about QAnon, so much so that you may have come to the view, shared by Fox News host Tucker Carlson, that the media talks about the movement in far greater proportion than its actual influence. After all, nobody really believes in that silly stuff. Well, unfortunately, they do, and at far greater numbers than you might realize.

Last October, a Yahoo News/YouGov poll found that only 7% of the 1,583 respondents believed the QAnon conspiracy theory was true. So, there you go, no big deal, right? Well, except that another 11% said, “It goes too far but I believe some of what I’ve heard”, and 23% said they were unsure of what to think about it. A worryingly small majority of 59% said it was an extremist theory that was not true at all. Importantly, these were the people who had heard of QAnon, so none of the unsure 23% were people who were simply unaware of the phenomenon.

Remember: QAnon is a conspiracy theory that claims Democrats and most of Hollywood are cannibalistic pedophiles that worship Satan and are actively trying to control the world. And, at the same time, Donald Trump (former buddy of Jeffrey Epstein, Donald Trump) was the one who was going to take down this “deep state” cabal (not so much, it seems). So, when 11% said QAnon was a little true but went too far, maybe they just though the cannibal stuff was over the line. We don’t know.

What we do know, though, is when asked directly about one of the core beliefs of QAnon, “Do you believe that top Democrats are involved in elite child sex-trafficking rings?”, 25% of respondents said yes and another 24% said they weren’t sure. Worse yet, 50% of Republicans said they believed it (and weirdly, 5% of Democrats, which is confusing). Furthermore, 49% of Republicans believed “President Trump is working to dismantle an elite child sex-trafficking ring involving top Democrats” (as well as 7%(?) of Democrats).

Which is to say, even though 37% of the respondents said they had never heard of QAnon, including 45% of Republicans, many people still held the basic premise of the conspiracy theory to be true.

I’ve personally seen this dichotomy in action: many people from my Christian youth with whom I’ve maintained Facebook connections have fully gone down the Republican conspiracy theory mind hole. They’ve bought into the nonsense that the election was stolen from Trump and that Biden is an illegitimate president. They also believe that Democrats are pedophiles; they’ve told me so. At the same time, they tell me that QAnon is stupid and they obviously aren’t believers in that made-up conspiracy theory.

The “Democrats are pedophiles” belief predates QAnon (and even QAnon’s immediate predecessor, Pizzagate), but there’s no question that it wasn’t a belief held by 50% of the Republican Party until the presidency of Donald Trump and the spread of these pro-Trump conspiracy theories online. And if 50% of a major political party believes something, can we really call it a fringe belief?

The issue, though, and the reason that people like heir-to-the-Swanson-fortune (and white supremacist) Tucker Carlson can claim QAnon is overblown is because the hucksters behind the whole movement (including pig farmer and child pornography-enabler Jim Watkins) are fairly savvy: they realized that their movement was getting a lot of bad press even as it was growing, so they explicitly told their followers to start obscuring the origins of the movement.

Instead of sharing Q drops (the anonymous, mindless drivel that “Q” posted on 8kun) and using Q-related hashtags like #wwg1wga, followers were urged to focus on spreading the message through something everyone could agree on: Saving the children. By using the preexisting #SaveTheChildren hashtag (and other related ones), QAnon’s pseudo-Biblical nonsense could spread through well-meaning social media users and mommy influencers. After all, only a monster would have a problem with people just trying to save children.

(Never mind that people who actual devote their lives to fighting sex trafficking have repeatedly said this type of online activism and “awareness raising” actually does more harm than good for the cause.)

So, QAnon lives on: in conspiracy theories about COVID-19, in weirdly pro-police cosplay, and in the persistent belief that Democrats, as well as Hollywood celebrities like Tom Hanks and Oprah Winfrey, are pedophiles. And it will continue to live on because, even though social media platforms have been shutting down QAnon accounts, it’s all but impossible to kill off a belief once it spreads and has been allowed to grow. That’s why cults often live on even after the leader has died or disappeared.

For anyone who would still insist QAnon is meaningless internet roleplaying, keep in mind that QAnon adherents were fundamental to organizing and executing the coup attempt at the US Capitol on January 6. Furthermore, QAnon believers have also been arrested and charged for burglary, terrorism, attempted kidnapping, murder, attempted murder (of Biden), and attempted vehicular manslaughter, all in the name of QAnon beliefs.

As those beliefs continue to spread and morph – even if they do so independently of the QAnon banner – they will represent a growing danger to not just the US, or to other countries where it’s taken root (including Germany and Canada), but to our basic ability as a species to live in the same reality. And without that, it’s impossible to tackle global problems, including world hunger, climate change, and pandemics.

So, while I’m just one voice on a small website trying to keep track of these spreading conspiracy theories, I’m happy to be a resource for anyone who wonders about this subject. There are plenty of fantastic journalist at larger outlets (Brandy Zadrozny and Ben Collins at NBC News in particular) who are doing the Herculean task of tracking so much of these conspiracy theories to their origins, and I would recommend anyone interested in the topic to search out their numerous deep dives.

But, if you’re like so many other people out there (myself included) who finds it hard to read everything about everything, but wishes you could, check in at TMS and we’ll be happy to provide you a brief explainer on everything from Armenia/Azerbaijan geopolitics to what exactly a Boogaloo Boy is. And, maybe, together, we can push back on the noise.

Donald Abroad

Joseph Lyttleton3 Comments

“Donald Trump does not reflect America… I mean, to be completely honest, he does reflect it a bit.” ~ John Oliver

I’ve been thinking about writing this piece for a while now, and every time I sit down to start it, I feel overwhelmed by the scope of it. This week, though, Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, HBO’s weekly news show, returned and covered a big portion of the subject.

This is helpful for two reasons. One, it provides a nice intro to the topic I wanted to cover today – how U.S. President Donald Trump is viewed by the world outside of America –  and secondly, it covers the bigger political topics quicker, funnier, and more knowledgeably than I could hope to do in a blog post. I fully recommend watching the full 20 minute piece.

What I want to discuss is less political and more personal. I remember Barack Obama’s eight years in office, so I vividly recall all the conservative politicians and pundits talking about how our first black president was diminishing America’s standings in the world. Whether that was true or not (it wasn’t; Bush Jr. had already done that) it’s rather telling that Trump has absolutely torpedoed the US’s reputation around the world and those same politicians and pundits don’t seem to care.

As an American living abroad, there is almost no sustained conversation with a citizen of a foreign country that doesn’t, at some point turn to America’s follicularly-avant-garde leader. Usually, the subject is broached gingerly, my conversational partner testing the waters with almost a stutter or a cautious smile.

Depending on the setting, I may simply acknowledge that the president is a divisive figure, even (or, especially) in my home country and suggest that he doesn’t speak for all Americans. Or, I might state that the United States’ first Persimmon-American president is basically an idiot. 

Here’s the thing: President Trump is objectively a bad president. He is objectively a bad person. And he is objectively making the United States a worse place, both as a home for the diverse constituency we generally refer to as “Americans” and as a country viewed by outsiders.

I am not using “objectively” like some people use “literally.” I know what the word means, and I mean it. If you disagree with those facts, it’s because a) you haven’t experienced real life outside the US in many years (or ever) or b) you work for the Trump administration (in which case, you know I’m right, but you just can’t admit it; blink twice if you need rescuing).

In my time traveling abroad, I’ve only had two interactions with foreigners who thought Trump would be a good president. One, before the election, was former Spanish military who felt that Trump’s rhetoric on ISIS – specifically, that he would eradicate them – was exactly the attitude the American president needed to have. Tough talk, whether it’s backed by actual strategy or not, will always have an audience.

More recently, I was at J&J Books and Coffee in the heart of Malasaña, the University district of Madrid. This particular bookshop is a popular hangout for Spaniards and Anglos alike, and that night, after my roommate and I had stumbled into an English-language trivia night (we got fourth place, not bad), I ended up conversing with a couple of native Spaniards, and the British boyfriend of one of the Spaniards. At some point, the conversation turned to Trump (because if there is one thing the man is undeniably good at, its being the center of attention). The four of us were discussing how terrible of a president Trump is when un hombre borracho interjected to tell us that, in fact, Trump was a good president and, at the very least, better than Hillary Clinton.

Anyone whose spent any amount of time interacting with fans of Donald Trump know that the go-to defense of his presidency is to bring up The Woman Who Would Be President and say, “She would have been worse.” (Because nothing screams confidence like “It could be worse.”)

The point is, I’ve met two people in all of my travels who, if not supported, at least were okay with Trump, and one was basing that on campaign rhetoric and the other was basing it on Russian-pushed anti-Clinton propaganda.

Which is not to say that Trump doesn’t have fans abroad. As Jon Oliver points out, the president and his leadership have a global approval of 30%, which is, again, objectively bad, but is still (somehow) more than 0%.

His approval ratings aren’t of that much interest to me, though. Trump represents – unfortunately or fortunately depending on your bent – an undeniable aspect of America. And so, as an American traveling abroad, I feel the burden of those expectations. 

I’ve yet to meet an American abroad who likes Trump (though I have my suspicions about some conspicuously politics-averse travelers) and that’s almost certainly because so much of Trump’s appeal is predicated on vilifying foreigners and the world beyond the U.S. borders. Once you pass through those imaginary barriers, it becomes damn near impossible to maintain a worldview based on the wholly inaccurate belief that the world is made up of shitholes or Communist nations where people die waiting to see a doctor.

The U.S. would absolutely benefit from more European influence in their social systems (particularly healthcare). Let me also be clear, there are things that the U.S. does better than other countries. This isn’t a case of a guy living abroad for a few months and suddenly deciding that berets are, in fact, very fashionable. Reality is nuanced.

Every country does have its charms and social successes, and to deny that is to deliberately live with your head in the sand. America’s greatness, if we are to speak in those terms, has always been in its diversity, in its openness to immigrants and its ability to blend cultures. 

In addition to the people I meet in Spain, I teach English online and speak with people from all over the world. Many are learning English so they can study abroad, and I’ve had more than a few tell me they had considered studying in America, but it’s become so restrictive that they opted for Australia or Canada, instead. If you don’t think that will hurt the U.S. in the long term, you haven’t been paying attention to global economics.

But, again, I don’t want to focus on politics (or economics), just the personal realities of being a citizen of this planet. Everybody around the world has stereotypes of Americans, just as Americans have stereotypes about people from other nations (assuming they think about people from other nations). Generally speaking, national stereotypes are rarely flattering, but with Trump as the largest, most inescapable avatar of my home nation, it feels like even more of an uphill battle to counteract the worst caricatures of an American.

This is why it’s so important that Americans step out of their comfort zones and travel. Now. Whether Trump is in office for three or seven more years, the image that he has projected globally will linger for a generation, at the very least. Some damage will only be repaired by future administrations, and some damage may be permanent. But ensuring that the stereotype of Americans is not shaped by a short-fingered vulgarian is up to each and every one of us.

A well-traveled, globally-educated electorate is the cure for Trumpism in whatever form it may arise next. It’s important to remain active in America and it’s vital to vote (especially in closely-contested elections), but for those who can spare the time, now more than ever, the U.S. needs global ambassadors.

Go for a week, go for a month; get TEFL-certified and go for a year or longer. Despite everything, people all around the world still dream of moving to America. As a nation, our greatest export has always been our self-worshiping pop culture and overly aggrandized sense of opportunity. Much of that is a lie, but it’s striving for that lie that can spur us to greatness.

The U.S. is a nation built on ideals it has never lived up to, but it should keep trying.

One of those ideals is that America is a melting pot, and for all its faults and historic failings on the issue of race, America is undeniably the most diverse nation on earth. That’s a feature, not a bug. The promise of America, the promise of the 21st century, cannot be achieved through isolation.

If you are one of the 65% of the United States who is embarrassed and ashamed of the leadership of our country (seriously, how is that number not higher?), remember that your options aren’t limited to the ballot box. Resist Dotard Trump by crossing borders.

Palacio Real

Or just travel because it makes you a better human being. That alone is its own form of resistance.

 

Dia de Muertos

Joseph Lyttleton

The Day of the Dead – Dia de Muertos – is a traditional Mexican holiday that involves praying for family members and loved ones who have died in order to help them on their spiritual journey “on the other side.” This holiday has spread through much of Latin America and even into Europe and throughout the world. And now, with the release of the new Pixar film, Coco, it’s probably about to become a much bigger deal among the world’s toy-loving children.

Since the Day of the Dead falls on November 1, in the United States, American’s tend to associate it with their own death-themed holiday, Halloween, which falls on October 31.

In Spain, though, November 1 is a different holiday known as All Saints’ Day (Todos Los Santos), a traditional Catholic celebration that recognizes, as the name suggests, all the saints in the religion. Across the country, there are numerous regionally-specific holidays dedicated to individual saints throughout the year (for instance, the Feast of San Antonio in La Alberca), but All Saints’ Day is celebrated nationwide.

Halloween in Madrid

On Halloween last month, my roommates and I went out into the Madrid night to see how – if – the city celebrated the morbidly amusing holiday. As has been explained to me by locals, Halloween was not traditionally celebrated in Spain, but over the last decade or so, it’s slowly grown in popularity here (America is insidious like that).

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
A little make-up goes a long way on Halloween

Though the Day of the Dead and All Saints’ Day are very different holidays, their roots are similarly based in commemoration of the deceased (either relatives or the saints) and a celebration of the changing season. Likewise, Halloween shares many of the same roots, so though the three holidays hold very specific cultural meanings within each country, they make for pretty natural bedfellows.

While All Saints’ Day isn’t traditionally associated with costumes, the mixture of American and Latin American expats has created a blended holiday here in Madrid. On the streets, not many people were dressed up for the night, but those that did opted for rather simple costumes (including me and my roommates). There were quite a few Day of the Dead-inspired skull designs.

El oso y el madroño

I’ve experienced some of America’s most enthusiastic Halloween cities – New Orleans and Chapel Hill are two must-visit spots for any Halloween-obsessive – so in comparison, Madrid was fairly subdued, even considering that the next day was a national holiday.

Yet, when our group split up and a few of us attempted to find a taxi home, we found ourselves S.O.L. in Sol, Madrid’s tourist-heavy, bustling city center. Ubers and Cabifys were unavailable and every passing cab swung past the crowds like they were urgently navigating through hordes of zombies. By the time we finally found a ride, we’d been stuck for over two hours.

Model Shoot

Speaking of Dia de Muertos (look at that segue), last week I was contacted out of the blue by two artists from Los Angeles who were traveling through Spain and wanted to do a Day of the Dead-themed model shoot. Erika, the make-up artist and founder of Drop Dead Gorgeous Artist, specializes in Day of the Dead designs, while the model, Marcia, is a wardrobe stylist who serves as Erika’s go-to travel companion/make-up guinea pig.

Meeting on a Tuesday night, we walked through Madrid’s richly decorated neighborhoods, looking for unique and colorful backdrops. The shoot lasted a few hours, and in the process I saw areas of the city that I had never known existed. Our wandering took us from Sol to Matadero Madrid and back up to Chueca (we might have hit a few bars along the way).

I had a blast doing this shoot, though it offered me a number of challenges, not all of which I’d say I overcame. For one, I had to quickly adapt to a variety of light sources I could not control as well as a number of areas with very low light. Additionally, shooting such bright and expressive make-up on top of a luminous red dress, while wonderful for eye-popping imagery, created some editing headaches.

Los ojos de la muerte

Of the 150+ photos I took for the shoot, I’m solidly happy with maybe half of them. A professional photographer certainly could have advised me on how to make my failed attempts work better, especially if I had more adaptable equipment (for instance, a portable light source), but for my first make-up-centric shoot, I ain’t mad. It’s all a learning process.

Chueca (Colors)

To see the full Dia de Muertos model shoot, click here or go to the 1000 Words link at the top of the page. Let me know what you think.

Guijarro

 

Who We Are

Joseph Lyttleton

My apologies ahead of time if this post is not what you come here to read. It won’t be very funny (not that they ever are).

When I decided to bring this blog back from hibernation, I did so with the intention of writing exclusively about travel and directly related topics. Long time readers of this page know I’ve never been shy about getting into politics and writing passionately about social issues. Going forward, though, I wanted this page to eschew those topics as much as possible, to be a positive page buoyed by the joy of travel.

To ignore what is going on in my country right now, though, would be a disservice. To write some random entry about a failed trip I once took would be a lie, because that isn’t where my mind is right now.

This is not a political post. I want to write about who we are.

Put simply, this Travel Ban – the Muslim Ban, the Refugee Ban, whatever you would call it – is not who we are. I refuse to accept this as a Conservative versus Liberal issue. Shame on us if we allow it to become so.

Since World War II, when America was forced to reconcile with the tragic results of banning refugees in the 1930s, we have been a nation that said we were a home for the outcast. It has been our identity in the world; it has been our beacon, a figurative idea made literal by Lady Liberty who stands roughly 5 miles from where I type this.

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

This has been the spirit of this nation for over 100 years. That is not to gloss over our numerous failings as a nation, especially as it relates to foreign policy. Our actions have rarely lived up to our ideals. But we have had those ideals, and they have been what united us as a nation, even if we couldn’t agree how best to achieve them.

For eight years, dyspeptic voices warned us that President Obama was fundamentally changing the character of this nation. Well, in eight days, Donald Trump truly did it.

You can be fiscally conservative and see this is wrong. You can be socially conservative and see this is wrong. You can love your children and want to protect them and not turn your backs on others – that isn’t love, that’s fear. This isn’t Right versus Left, this is a basic question of our humanity. To shut our doors on those in need under the guise – the lie – that it will keep us safe is to fail on every level to be the nation we have claimed to be for a century.

I won’t post pictures of the children caught in the Syrian war because I don’t want to be accused of using emotional manipulation or propaganda. But you have seen them. You have seen these children, these mothers, these fathers; you have seen their suffering. They are no less human because the God they pray to answers to a different name than yours.

“Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

I have been told often that we are a Christian nation. When will we act as such? How can we be a nation that professes that it is in God we trust, yet we have no faith that we will be protected if we do what is right?

I don’t know what motivates you. I don’t know which truth you hold most dear to your heart. I don’t know which belief guides your choices.

Here is mine: Humanity is flawed; it is capable of great evil and depravity, motivated by selfishness, greed, hatred, and, more often than anything else, fear. But within humanity is also the capacity for tremendous acts of love and sacrifice, resilience and hope. I believe that humanity at its best surpasses humanity at its worst. And I believe that there is no Judgment Day awaiting, no eternal reward or punishment; just the beating rhythm of our own conscience too often drowned out by the frightened bellows within us.

To those living elsewhere in the world: Know that the actions of these particular leaders are not the will of much of the people. It is not my will. I became a traveler because I do not believe in walls. I travel because my humanity is awakened when I open myself up to new experiences and new perspectives.

To those of you living in the US: Now, we must resist this spreading evil, just as generations passed resisted tyranny in Europe and elsewhere. We must not grow complacent or irresolute in the face of this onslaught of cruelty. This is not who we are as a nation. This is not who we are as people.

This is how we resist:
ACLU = https://www.aclu.org/
CAIR = https://www.cair.com/
IRC = http://www.rescue.org
Southern Poverty Law Center = https://www.splcenter.org/
Planned Parenthood = https://www.plannedparenthood.org/

We are different; we are not separate.

 

 

 

Authentic Cuisine: Cocido Madrileñe

Joseph Lyttleton1 Comment

Emily and I had reached the end of our time in Spain, which included our week in La Alberca, a weekend in Barcelona, and a couple scattered days in Madrid.

Monday, after our wild Sunday night in Barcelona, we had to catch an early flight back to Madrid. In the morning’s haze light, the city looked a little rough. The party had clearly gone on late, and now as we hustled our way through the alleys and squares, we were practically the only ones awake. Well, there was at least one other early riser.

in-the-fountain

Our flight lasted just over an hour. After dropping off our bags in our third hostel in four days, we set off to meet up with Tim, a new friend from Pueblo Ingles.

During my final one-on-one conversation with a Spaniard at La Alberca, I had been informed that, while the food during the week had been good, if I wanted to experience a truly authentic Spanish meal, I had to try “cocido.” I, of course, wanted to try authentic Spanish cuisine, so I asked her where to get it. She gave me the names of a couple of restaurants that served the best cocido, one in Barcelona and one in Madrid. I asked her what it was and she tried to explain in her improved but still developing English. I understood it involved meat, vegetables, and a broth.

“So, it’s like a stew?” I asked.

“Uh, sort of.”

(In retrospect, all I can think of is the “What’s tequila” scene from The Three Amigos.)

Having convinced Emily we needed to try this (though she had lived in Spain for a semester during college, she had never experienced this particular culinary treat), and already planning to meet Tim for lunch, we agreed to eat at Malacatín, a restaurante in the Embajadores ward of central Madrid, about a ten minute walk south of the Sol Metro stop.

Tim was waiting outside when we arrived, so together we entered Malacatín. One row of booths on the right and a bar/counter on the left allowed a narrow passageway to an only slightly less narrow dining area with a smattering of tables. A waitress greeted us with an uneasy smile, likely already anticipating how our meal would progress. We asked for a table and she sat us in the booth nearest the door, Emily and Tim sitting across from me.

Since it had been my idea and I kind of knew what I wanted, I let the waitress know we didn’t need her menus, we’d be sharing the cocido. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that Tim was vegetarian and so the vaguely understood “meat meal” we were about to partake in wasn’t going to work for him. He took a menu. Emily and I were to share this experience on our own.

The first course of what would turn out to be three arrived almost before we had time to settle in. Delivered in a large silver bowl set in the center of table, the hot broth was served with a heap of garbanzo beans and onions. Emily and I ladled out what turned to be a pork-based broth into our own bowls and then each tried a sip. It was savory, delicious. Mixing in the beans and onions, we ate our unadorned soup while Tim waited for his meal that, because it had to be prepared separately, took longer to arrive.

tim-and-emily

After ten minutes of slurping garbanzo soup,the waitress returned with the next course, heaping helpings of cooked vegetables and potatoes and something that looked like Carmex pressed into a gelatin mold. No one touched it.

We didn’t know whether the vegetables were intended to be eaten separately or tossed into the broth, but it seemed like it made the most sense to mix it all together. I felt self-consciously like a tourist – as, of course, we were – but so far the meal was enjoyable. Our table nearly overflowed already and the third course hadn’t even arrived yet. We tried to consolidate as much food onto one plate as possible in preparation for the final course.

When the waitress returned, she had the – and no other name could do it justice – Meat Course, laid out on two large plates. The first held an assortment, including brisket, chorizo, and pigs feet, while the other offered baked chicken and the leathery, furry visage of a pig. Wilbur’s head had been set on our table, its face staring at Emily and Tim, while I stared at the the gaping opening of its former neck, a bone jutting unhappily at me.

The head was roughly the size of a soccer ball and still sported eyebrows and hair on its chinny-chin-chin. The eyes had been removed but otherwise the face was intact, staring accustorily at a table of Anglos who were in over their… um, head.

Emily’s expression morphed into pure disgust as she faced the full brunt of the pig’s gray visage. With stomach turning, Emily’s appetite vanished and her meal was abruptly over. She spun the face away so now our lunch stared at me. For his part, Tim sported a mix of horror and bemusement at the introduction of our newest guest, his unadorned vegetarian option suddenly looking like a fine feast.

More than anything, I felt embarrassment. This had been my idea and I was trying to project a stoic acceptance, but something about the blackness and coarseness of the pig’s hair was unaccountably disconcerting. I was ready to call it quits, too, but I felt as though someone had to make at least a small dent in the mounds of meat or it would be highly disrespectful.

Reaching around the pig’s head, I tried some of the brisket (good) and the baked chicken (bland) but my heart wasn’t in it anymore. We had to make our exit.

Emily stepped outside, ostensibly to make a call, but mostly to get some air, leaving Tim and I to close out our bill. I debated asking the waitress to wrap up the leftovers – we could gift the food to someone on the street, maybe? (Imagine being the person who opened up the bag to find a head looking up at you.)

We sat indecisively for about five minutes until Tim noticed another table finishing their meal and getting ready to leave. They had also ordered the cocido and were now parting with a largely untouched meal. Feeling reassured that it wasn’t unforgivably rude to leave behind an embankment of meat (or, at least, we weren’t the only rude ones), we requested our bill.

San Anton
Not (our) lunch.

We paid for our meal, assuring the waitress that we were absolutely stuffed, and walked back out into the sunny, porkless afternoon.

Look, I admit it, a heartier person than me would have at least tried the head. Good on them. I get wanting to try new things, and I can certainly appreciate doing something just for the crazy story… but I still got a story and I didn’t have to evacuate my stomach on the street.

I’m not sure there’s a moral to this story, other than don’t be my friend, but that’s the moral to all my stories. I’ll say this, though, the next time someone recommends I try an authentic meal, I’ll do a quick Google search first.