Las Chicas De Oro...madre mia.

Hey Everyone!

Sorry that I have dropped the ball so to speak on posting blogs, the days here slip by very quickly. I have a great story to tell that will probably take up this entire post, so I'm sorry if I forget to mention cultural things.  Well, I suppose that this IS culture...

As I've mentioned before, my 'madre' (Esther) and her three best friends call themselves "las chicas de oro"- meaning the golden girls.  Most of Esthers days and nights are spent watching TV (spaniards LOVE tv. The Simpsons is the current frontrunner.  Inside Kinder (a chocolate company)'s surprise chocolate balls with toys inside, the current surprises are the entire miniature cast of the Simpsons. I think they float).  Anyway, Esther breaks from her schedule of walking with friends (in golden velcro walking shoes), enjoying celebrity gossip on TV (domestic and abroad), and rearranging all of my drawers, on Friday and Saturday nights.  Friday nights are "girls night" and Saturday nights are for "el cine" (movie theater).  My friends and I had the honor of accompanying them out on Friday night for their girls night (as we are their "hijas"- daughters).  It was quite an experience.  Not entirely unlike some of the shenanigans that go on at Margaritaville, the Lake House, or whenever our family gets together...although the setting was somewhat more formal.

Allow me to introduce the chicas de oro- Esther (my madre), Chelo (madre of Allison, who goes to Boston College), Marga (madre of Sarah, from Denniston University in Ohio), and Cati (daughterless, but adopted our friend Rachel from Penn State for the night).  Here is the scene: the four of the "chicas de oro" are all wearing dark denim, high heeled boots, scarves, and full length coats- same haircut, same body type, same makeup, everything--walking arm in arm down the street, having perfected what my friends and I like to call their "swagger".  The four of us walked in front, significantly faster.  Our madres enjoyed saying that we looked like characters from Sex and the City (here, called "Sexo in Nueva York").  So, we get to this italian restaurant- very full, middle of the city, lots of italian men as waiters, and they strut in receiving "dos besos" (the two cheek kisses) from literally every male in sight.  "Hola guapas!" was the term of the night from our waiters to our madres.  They are sauntered to a table in the back, where a strapping young Italian man brings them their gifts for the week- magnets from London, where he traveled last.  They dont use the menu- pick out their own wine, food, etc. and tell us that they dont need reservations (although the restaurant is packed to the gills), and that whenever we want to come all we need to do is tell them we are the next generation of the "chicas de oro".  The food was delicious (black ravioli with seafood filling, creamy linguini, fresh baked bread with olives baked in, and extremely thin crust pizza with chorizo and vegetables) but not the most memorable part of the evening, as they proceeded to enjoy 3 bottles of wine, started to shimmy, and fed each other the chocolate mousse dessert. Our dinner lasted about 2 and a half hours- so the children (us) were ready to go.  All of the sudden, our madres receive a free bottle of limoncello from the table next to us and pronounce that it was time for "Chupitos!" (shots). These women are SIXTY FIVE years old. We didn't leave the restaurant until 1am.

At this point, my face is about to fall off from laughing.  The madres tell us we are heading to their favorite club with them "La biblioteca" (the library) to go dancing.  I begin to understand why my madre doesn't always return before 3am on Friday nights.  They find it hilarious to say they are going to "estudiar en la biblioteca" (study in the library).  So...we go to la biblioteca-- a club for 40+ year old, mostly Cuban, mostly men, "young at hearts" looking to have a good time.  Esther entertained all in her leopard print sheath/dress, particularly large black men.  Oh, the wonders of Europe.  We left them there after an obligatory hour of dancing to Shakira, returned home, and Esther slept in the next morning until all of 9AM.  

I would love to post a picture of the chicas de oro, but sadly Esther has informed me that Marga saw the pictures on her facebook from Sarah and thought that she looked fat so Sarah took them down.  Lo siento (I'm sorry).  Instead, I just put down a picture of my friend Natalie (Penn State), Hilary (Iowa), and I.  It was the most recent one I could find.  All in all, I will say that Spaniards embrace the same love of life and company that our family/friends do- and I truly do feel like a part of the family here now.  Phrase for the day? "Madre Mia" (Oh my gosh). They use it literally all of the time- if something sad happens on the news, if you have a lot of homework, or if you find yourself in situations so absurd that no other phrase applies.  We found ourselves saying it alot on Friday.

Dos besos,

Casey