The aftermath
Today at noon, we went outside Galileo to observe a "moment of silence". This "moment" turned into literally 15 minutes. Nobody even moved the entire time. All of the staff from the dorm was outside, and rather than spending their time working, they were spending it thinking. Everyone from the reception people to the cleaning ladies to the laundry lady stopped what they were doing, and took a break to remember those innocent lives lost yesterday. There were groups of students outside from the Escuela de Español, who are not Spaniards, but Europeans from other countries. The pain in their eyes matched the ones of the Spaniards, and they share in the remorse. I share my sympathy as an American as well. I understand completely how they feel. I am dressed in all black (well, minus the pink purse and the pink sheep on my black socks), and I am wearing a necklace I purchased in Toledo which has the Cross, the Star of David, and the Crescent Moon, all intertwined. That is exactly what I feel the purpose of today should be.
Last night I talked to Brandon on the phone. We were having a stupid, petty argument over something, and he began to cry. He said to me, "we are having this rediculous argument and some father cannot come home to his children, or some pregnant wife will never come home to her husband." This is all so true. It made me put a lot of things into perspective. The bombings hit him hard as well, as knows exactly how I feel. Having the US bombed was horrific and I never wanted to relive the feelings I had on September 11th. Unfortunately, I had to yesterday, except this time, the feelings were stronger. You see, the US is my home. It is where I have always lived, and where all my family resides. I have a lot of pride for my country, and I hate to see fellow citizens suffer so much. Spain is different. Spain is my temporary home. I have friends and "family" here as well that are very dear to me, because they reached out to me when I was away from my real family. Spain is the country that I have been in love with since I first got here, and loved so much that I decided to come back. It is the country, that in my opinion, was almost perfect, and a place I want to continue to visit for the rest of my life. Everything about it was great. Yesterday I saw the pride and joy of the country I love so much, crumble to pieces. The power of Spain, Madrid, where all the royalty and much of the history takes place, is now in a state of shock and distress. This is not something I had an easy time coming to grips with. Madrid is supposed to be the crazy, overpopulated, busy, beautiful city that I visited not too long ago. Yesterday I saw people in the rubble of an exploded train, struggling for their life. Atocha is the train station I left from as I travelled back to Valencia from the Camino de Santiago, exhausted after the journey of my life and relieved to return home; in addition to the station I left from when I came back to Valencia for the second time. Yesterday it was a temporary hospital for the dead and wounded. This was one of the most horrible things I have ever seen. Few things have been more of a shot to the heart than what I witnessed yesterday. Yesterday I saw the Spain that I loved, but in mourning. Yesterday was most definitely a day I do not want to remember, but also a day I will never forget.
Last night I talked to Brandon on the phone. We were having a stupid, petty argument over something, and he began to cry. He said to me, "we are having this rediculous argument and some father cannot come home to his children, or some pregnant wife will never come home to her husband." This is all so true. It made me put a lot of things into perspective. The bombings hit him hard as well, as knows exactly how I feel. Having the US bombed was horrific and I never wanted to relive the feelings I had on September 11th. Unfortunately, I had to yesterday, except this time, the feelings were stronger. You see, the US is my home. It is where I have always lived, and where all my family resides. I have a lot of pride for my country, and I hate to see fellow citizens suffer so much. Spain is different. Spain is my temporary home. I have friends and "family" here as well that are very dear to me, because they reached out to me when I was away from my real family. Spain is the country that I have been in love with since I first got here, and loved so much that I decided to come back. It is the country, that in my opinion, was almost perfect, and a place I want to continue to visit for the rest of my life. Everything about it was great. Yesterday I saw the pride and joy of the country I love so much, crumble to pieces. The power of Spain, Madrid, where all the royalty and much of the history takes place, is now in a state of shock and distress. This is not something I had an easy time coming to grips with. Madrid is supposed to be the crazy, overpopulated, busy, beautiful city that I visited not too long ago. Yesterday I saw people in the rubble of an exploded train, struggling for their life. Atocha is the train station I left from as I travelled back to Valencia from the Camino de Santiago, exhausted after the journey of my life and relieved to return home; in addition to the station I left from when I came back to Valencia for the second time. Yesterday it was a temporary hospital for the dead and wounded. This was one of the most horrible things I have ever seen. Few things have been more of a shot to the heart than what I witnessed yesterday. Yesterday I saw the Spain that I loved, but in mourning. Yesterday was most definitely a day I do not want to remember, but also a day I will never forget.