The house is back in order. Our “lucky” flag (the one we also flew when España won the World Cup in 2010) has been folded and put away. The garbage has been discarded or duly recycled, and the only evidence left of yesterday’s big party at home are the extra chorizo and jamón serrano in the refrigerator. ¡España ganó! Spain won, and we were happy. All of our friends who were there with us celebrated the occasion and became temporarily Spanish, too. Our home is not usually festooned in red and yellow from the chandelier in the dining room and the railings inside and out, to the table cloths and even plates, cups and utensils. Our friends brought red and yellow flowers and even red and yellow cupcakes. It was a wonderful afternoon and one my girls will likely always remember. And it is not always that they get to run up and down our street yelling and blasting an air horn. It will be a good memory.
Today, as my girls and I drove home from a routine shopping trip, my oldest played traditional pasodobles taurinos on the car stereo via a download onto my iPhone. ¨This one is my favorite¨ said my oldest as we listened to España Cañi. ¨Do you girls actually like this music?¨ I asked them. I hadn’t asked them to play it. ¨Oh yes Mommy!¨ they replied. ¨Why does Spanish music always sound so happy?¨ one of them asked. ¨It’s not always so happy.¨ I replied. ¨But it makes you feel happy because you love it. You identify with it.¨ The truth is, it makes me feel happy and sad. Happy to feel ¨Spanish¨ and happy to really feel this music like a Spaniard, but sad to not be there with my family. But that is the plight of those of us who are “lucky” to be bi-cultural isn’t it? It’s a gift because we can love and appreciate so many things so deeply, but we also feel the pain of separation from it.
So, Spain won. And as I watch the madrileños spilling out into the streets of Madrid shouting and dancing and reveling in the fact that their team won… that for one day they can forget about the economic crisis that has gripped their country… that for one day their country be won’t ridiculed by other countries… As I watch them I am sad for not being among them. But my heart flies across the Atlantic and joins them there, at the foot of La Cibeles, dancing along with them. And today, the American flag flies outside our door, but for one more day…
¡Viva España!
