EPISODE 14: SPAIN


In March 2006 I spent some time in Spain. Here is short story from that trip.

Viva la Huelga

On the Thursday of my one-week Spanish course in Madrid I decided to skip a cultural lecture and go to the train station to get tickets for the weekend. My plans were to go to Segovia on Saturday, stay the night, then head to Tarragona on Sunday. The tourist information office said that the ticket office at the station stays open to 11:00PM so when I got there at 7:00PM I figured I had a lot of time. The problem was that there are two parts to the Puerta de Atocha train station: one for local trains and one for long-distance trains. But I did not really realize that at first. Further complicating the situation is that the train to Segovia is a local train, and the one to Tarragona is not – one has to purchase these tickets in a different place and I just got confused. I started off in the local train section and couldn’t figure out how one was supposed to gain access to the queue. And then people told me to go to the other part of the station, which I did. Then the information person in that part of the station told me to go back to the local part of the station where they told me I could not get a ticket. Long story short – it turns out that the ticket offices actually close at 9:00PM and when I found that out at 8:55 I still had not purchased my tickets. Someone told me I could do it over the phone. I tried that, but it was hopeless. I could not get my phone card to work. So I gave up and decided to just go home and try again tomorrow. On the way out I recalled that this was the station where the terrorists had bombed the metro-line a while back and wondered if they were really interested in Jihad or were just pissed-off at failing to purchase long-distance train tickets.

The next day I had planned to go to the train station, again, right after classes ended at 2:00, then go to the El Escorial after I got the tickets. At the station my first stop was at the Customer Service Office where a nice woman explained to me that I needed to get tickets for Tarragona in the long distance train sales room and she showed me how to get there. It is right off the long-distance part of the station’s main hall, which is huge and verdant with foliage, like an indoor jungle. I leave this bucolic setting for the main sales room which is very large, crowded, and chaotic. There is a line of windows along the back wall with people behind the counter to issue tickets, a lot of electronic signs telling what numbers are currently being served, several machines that issue chits with numbers on them like the little machines you find in bakeries and butcher shops. There are dozens of people milling around, standing up in one part of this large room, and in other part people are camped out on chairs for what appears to be a long wait.

I get a chit with a number on it and start my wait. I wait 40 minutes and I am only about 5 numbers closer to being called, so I go back to talk to the Customer Service Office again. They say that the system has not been working well but they are going to fix it. I go back to the sales room and wait some more. Now a total of two hours has passed and the grand progress has only been about ten numbers: from 44 to 54 and I have number 148.

It now looks like I am going to have a hard time getting to El Escorial today, and to pass the time I walk back to the other part of station (for local trains) to see about getting a ticket for Segovia for Saturday and find out that reservations are not required. Then I go back to the big room where long distance train tickets are sold, or at least are being waited for. Now the system has broken down completely. What’s more, I notice a sign that says that there will be a “Huelga” (strike) at 6:00PM. But here is the good news: it will only last to 8:00PM.

I go back to the Customer Service Office again. Up to now I have been doing all this in Spanish. But now I say in English: “OK, I give up, what would you suggest I do?” They suggest that I make a reservation on-line (there is a different numbering system for people who already have made reservations on-line) and then come back to the station at 7:30PM before the Huelga is over. I take the metro to the bus station for El Escorial but decide it is too late to go there, especially since people have told me different closing times for that tourist venue and I don’t want to risk a trip for nothing. So I go back to my language school to use their computer and I am amazed that after only three tries I am able to log on to the Spanish Train Website, register and get a password, and actually make reservations for my Sunday train journey from Segovia-Madrid-Tarragona. Now all I need to do is purchase the ticket.

So now, as instructed, I return to the station at 7:30 and get in line to get my number. At about 7:50 they open the doors and I get a new number, now for Internet people only; my number is 763, which seems rather hopeless. At 8:00, right on time, the huelga is over. They post the first set of numbers on the big board and I see number 763. I freak. I can’t believe it, but I get right in line. (The next day I realized that at this point I must have dropped my Spanish notebook and lost it in my surprise and haste to get in line.) I ask the man behind the counter: why the huelga, dinero o condiciones? (money or conditions?). He answers, “condiciones” and gestures for me to look around at the crowded mayhem. I said that I agree completely and asked him if he remembered César Chavez? He replied, “Si”. And I said, as Cesar often did, “Viva la huelga.” On the way out, with a big smile on my face, I show the nice woman in the Customer Service Office that I actually got the ticket. What a victory.

Here is a picture of a nurses huelga.
And mi favoritio, a pueblo blanco.