Smelly

If you had a time machine, would you rather go forward in time, or backward? After two months in time, my definitive answer is forward. I know I would not be able to stomach the odors of the past.

Madrid is smelly, the trash is smelly, the streets are smelly, the people are smelly, I expected this before I came, but I was not prepared for the reality.
The trash in Madrid is no smellier than most countries, the problem is it is more exposed than other countries. There are no back allies in Madrid, only courtyards, and exposed streets. Restaurant trash is taken out daily, which means the trash bins are left out on the street over night. In the evenings the wonderful aromas of Spanish cuisine out compete the scent of trash, but during the day, the smell of trash is inescapable.
If your out and about at night, where can you find a bathroom? According to the locals, anywhere out of sight of the cops. If you are walking about Madrid between 4:00-10:00 in the morning, the smell of urine is inescapable. If you look closely at the highly graffitied walls, you'll notice streaks of urine interspersed. I could be wrong, but I'm fairly certain Madrid's only attempt at removing graffiti is by the locals pissing on it.
I spent most of the last year in a country of people with no body odor. Japan is remarkably odor free, and so Spain is a shock to the system. Not every Spaniard smells bad, but it's not just people who don't have access to showers that are an issue here. Businessmen, high fashion women, and all sorts of professionals smell as bad as the drunken drifter passed out on the metro. In America, this would be considered unprofessional, and would make it more difficult to socialize, but here no-one seems to bat an eye. One of my classes of teenagers smells so bad it makes my eyes water, and my stomach churn when I am stuck in a class with them with no windows.
Worse than body odor are the people with halitosis. Luckily this isn't as common as body odor, but this smell actually makes me gag. I would say about one person out of every hundred has halitosis. The Spanish diet is the perfect cocktail for bad breath, lots of breads, lots of meat, and coffee. Bad breath is much more common here, but on some people it is overwhelming. People with persistent halitosis not only have bad breath, their clothes become saturated with the smell of stale halitosis.

Spain is my limit, I could not handle worse smells (and sometimes I can't even handle it here). I am certain that it smelled much worse in the past, before toothpaste, before deodorant, before daily showers were the norm, before daily trash pickup, or before plumbing.

Reina Sofia

Ben and I went to the free hours for the Reina Sofia Museum of Art today. It features modern art, and has pieces by both Dali and Picasso. I'm quite hit or miss when it comes to modern art, I enjoy cubism (but not much of Picasso), Van Gough (though not his super morbid stuff), some Abstractism, Supremitism (especially from Russia), and a few painters here and there outside of those genres, but for the most part, I find modern art tedious.

The exhibits of Reina Sofia were not tedious, they were upsetting. I felt like I was trapped in a horror movie, and felt nervous and agitated most of the time I was there. I'm not sure why modern art films feature static, shaky cameras, and unfocused lenses so often, it's not creative, it's poor quality. The obnoxious noises of "modern art" were inescapable throughout the museum.

The museum was hard to navigate, We couldn't find the exhibits we wanted to see, and got lost in dark rooms with flickering lights. There were many small rooms separated by huge empty spaces. The museum felt like a factory. I'm glad I didn't pay for the museum, it was an interesting two hours of my life, but not worth a cent.

Recovery

For the most part, I am recovered from my run in with the train, all I have now is a greenish tint that runs up and down my shin, and a blue bruise around my knee. It no longer hurts to walk, the only problems now are random charley horses in my foot, and intense pain pain if bump my shin into anything. The first couple of days I could barely walk. I spent those days napping, watching TV (until our internet went out), and being spoiled with chocolate and tea by Ben.
The adrenaline messed with me as much as the injury did. I felt nauseous all the day after I got hurt, and have been having awful nightmares. I haven't seen much of Spain these last few days. There's a special kind of home sickness when your injured or sick, it more than just missing home. When I was sick as a kid, I got the day off of going to school, I had no worries, my dad made me soup, and I got to watch TV all day. I didn't have to worry about anything, and I got doted on more than I could even handle. Now I still have to go to work, reply to emails, reassure my family that I am alive and healing...
I will be a full fledged grownup again... tomorrow.