Mallada in Meira

Mallar: Galician. verb, to beat cereals with a flail or mechanically to separate the grains from their husks. See Eng. threshing. Curiously, just like another one of its English counterparts, beat, it can be transformed into an adjective to mean exhausted. Estou mallada, I'm beat.

Wouldn't want to lose a needle here!

As a very rural region, Galicia has always had celebrations in accordance with the seasons and harvests. One such occasion is the malla or threshing. Before the advent of the combine harvester (which was much later in Galicia than you'd imagine) the malla was half social event, half work gathering. At the end of summer, neighbors used to help their neighbors get the job done after collecting the wheat. They'd rotate to pitch in at all area farms. While researching some vocabulary equivalents in English, I discovered similar get-togethers in the Great Plains. Threshing Bees. Given the size difference in land, Galicia's version was on a much smaller scale

After its near-disappearance in Galicia, the malla is making a comeback. In big towns around the plains of Galicia, they now gather to give a demonstration of threshing techniques, using a variety or manual and mechanical instruments. I guess this is to show us city slickers what hard work looks like. In late August, we went to Meira to see their malla. For the past 20 years, an association dedicated to preserving threshing has been holding this blast-from-the-past event. 

A mechanical threshing device

The small crowd assembled around the exhibition was made up of mostly senior citizens. Recognizing the machines that were used in the demonstration, old men reminisced about their childhoods. We were front and center to see how a group of volunteers coaxed a noisy threshing machine to work. Between demonstrations there was a roving traditional band, clad in old-fashioned traditional Galician clothes. Throughout the day there were supposedly handouts of donuts, wine, and queimada as well as other traditional musics. We didn't stay long enough to find out though. It took me a few hours to get over missing out on free donuts!

Getting wheat from the very top

Galician Block Party

It's 3 AM on a Saturday. Do you know where your grandparents are?

Well, if they live in the Galician countryside and their parish* is having it's annual celebration, they just might be out and about. I couldn't believe my eyes. Or my watch, for that matter.

In rural Galicia, neighbors chip in for what is comparable to an annual block party or town fair. Even if there are less than 100 people living in the parish. Even if the average age is 75. These block parties are usually in spring and summer, and always honoring a saint. The party is held near the church, as each parish has its own celebration. And with over 3,5000 parishes making up Galicia, if you wanted to visit all of their little festivals, it would take years.

Full bar, awaiting the orquesta

No Galician block party is complete without a stage and a bar.  Beforehand, the planning committee goes around to the houses asking for a donation. And you better give something, or risk being labeled the village cheapskates. With the money collected they hire orquestas and bring in a bar to keep folks entertained. By the way, in Galicia an orquesta doesn't mean what you think it means. It's a band with flashy costumes, choreographed dance moves, and a truck-turned-stage with dazzling lighting. They cover a wide array of songs to get the crowd moving: cumbia, paso dobles, rumba, pop, and even rock.

The usual order of events at these block parties is: mass, sesión vermú (meaning music and dancing before lunch), and later on the verbena (more music and dancing after dinner). Some parishes have specific traditions such as processions or picnicking.

After a short but sweet trip home this summer, back in Galicia it was my first year attending our parish's late-night party. Last year we went to the pre-lunch band. But this year I arrived at midnight and was surprised to see a good amount of people, almost all sporting white locks. There were also a handful of kids in the mix, likely grandkids of neighbors. And at our block party there was not one but two different orquestas, which is incredible to me, keeping in mind that there are less than 200 people to split the costs. The celebration lasted til 4 AM. In a field in the middle of nowhere! Now that's what I call a Galician block party.

*Note: As I have explained before, parish is one of the smallest subdivisions in Galicia. Towns --concellos-- are divided into different parishes --parroquias-- surrounding the churches scattered throughout town limits. Nowadays it's not merely a religious subdivision.

Resurrection Fest

Hordes of people almost all in black t-shirts in the coastal town of Viveiro can only mean one thing: Resurrection Fest. From Wednesday to Sunday, the town (population: 15,000) swelled to accommodate over 100,000 fans of rock and metal music. And in my first time there, what stuck out to me was the atmosphere that engulfed Viveiro before even getting into the concert grounds. Because metalheads had come from around the world to see their favorite big-name bands, such as Alice Cooper, the Offspring, and Avenged Sevenfold in this edition.

Resurrection Fest is almost a way of life for some people. Tons come year after year, proudly displaying wristbands or t-shirts from past editions. Some folks show up days before and stay the whole week, turning it into their vacation. And who could blame them, with a nearby beach, great gastronomy, plus big-name concerts-- sounds like an ideal vacation. There is also the option to get married at Resurrection Fest's little chapel. Apparently this year over 1,000 couples applied, so there was a drawing. And just because you have kids doesn't mean your festival-going days are over. Aside from many families bringing their kids along, they have recently started offering Resukids where you can sign your kids up to be with babysitters, even to sleep over. We saw a group of these kid ¨campers¨ at one concert, when they came out on stage for the last song (decked out in protective ear gear, of course), most of them doe-eyed, but one girl was really into it and helping the guitarist.

Because we were only going one night, we opted to skip the tent and just sleep in the car. I'm sure we missed half of the fun by not staying at the festival campground. Anyways, after a stroke of luck finding a parking spot in public parking, we went to lunch. The three bars surrounding the parking lot were all full of festivalgoers drinking and dining. Some started conversation with other fans, as it was quite clear who was around for the festival (80% of the customers, approximately).

Not too many people for Wednesday's opening act

 

Once on the festival grounds, we walked down what they have set up like Main Street from the Wild West. It contains t-shirt shops and the aforementioned chapel. There were also plenty of food choices. At the festival there are 4 separate stages, with two concerts going on simultaneously. This was really useful, because if you weren't interested in the two options, you could stake out a spot to see the following concert.

Resu Main Street and Chapel

 

Alice Cooper for Prez

We saw the festival openers --a Japanese all-female band dressed in very frilly clothes, with the singer alternating between a high-pitched ¨girly¨ voice and deep bellows. Throughout the afternoon/evening we saw three other concerts, culminating in the headliner for the day, Alice Cooper. For that we were relatively close, perhaps six heads back. Since it was a Wednesday, the place was not packed. Pictures I've seen online from Friday and Saturday show the field overflowing with attendees. Alice Cooper put on a great show with numerous costume changes and tons of guitar picks flying to the crowd. Sum 41 played past midnight, but we just didn't have the energy to wait. 

Next year will be Resurrection Fest's 20th anniversary, and surely they'll book some great bands to celebrate. Maybe the lineup will be enticing enough for me to go back. And next time, camp out to experience the convivial atmosphere.

It's Tough to Be a Senior in Spain

While kids in the USA are probably out of school already, students in Spain still have another 2 whole weeks of class to trudge through. Except for the ¨seniors¨ in their last year of high school (called 2nd BAC or bachillerato). They finished their final exams at the beginning of May and have spent the past month studying like crazy. Today in Galicia they are in their last day of testing for the Spanish version of the SAT-- the EBAUs. That stands for Evaluation of Bachillerato for Access to University (hey, the acronym works in English, too!)

I say Spanish version of the SAT because it is an exam necessary to get into college. But the similarities end there. Whereas in the United States students can take the SAT or ACT as many times as they want--starting early, a few years before graduation-- in Spain you've only got one shot. Not only that, but there are several exams, one for each subject. In Galicia --since there is a co-official language-- there are five written tests: Spanish, Galician, English, History or Philosophy, and Math (or another exam related to the type of bachillerato you have been studying). You can also take up to four more exams on elective subjects to raise your score.

But what happens if you have a bad day? What if you're sick or just totally blank? There is the possibility of a redo, a month or two later. But you risk the spots filling up for your chosen major. That's another difference between Spain's college access system and the United States'. Here you get into college based on your chosen major and whether or not it aligns with your combined score. Rather than GPA and SAT scores being evaluated separately, here they are combined into one neat number. Your grades in the last two years of high school count for 60% of your score and the EBAU results make up the other 40%. The maximum score is a 14. Ten of those points are made up of the aforementioned percentage of grades and test scores. The other possible four points are from exams that are ¨weighted,¨ and related to your chosen field of study. For example, future med students might take the biology or chemistry exams. Future language teachers would probably go for some other foreign languages.

Beforehand, universities publish a cut off score for each specific major. As you can imagine, medical degrees require near-perfect scores, but these minimums vary depending on the college. Then after the exam, students look at their final score out of 14 and based on that, apply to colleges and their desired major. And just because you made the cutoff score doesn't necessarily mean you made the cut. If a college's program got more applicants than it was expecting and they all did better than you, well, you might have to choose a new major or school.

So basically, after ending classes early, seniors in Spain have to hit the books, maybe even more so than during the school year. Their future is depending on it. So much for senioritis!

Volcanic Lanzarote

Cobblestone like asphalt

This month we made our own long weekend and took a short trip to Lanzarote, one of the Canary Islands. Cross another comunidad autónoma off my list. This archipelago is located off the coast of Africa, a 2.5 hour flight from Galicia. Why this is still Spanish territory is beyond me. The perpetually decent weather makes it a hot spot for tourism year round.

Each island has its own personality, and Lanzarote's is largely based on it being volcanic. The scenery was out of this world! Black, black everywhere. I was especially fascinated by the old buildings or cobblestones being charcoal gray. It makes sense, because you use the stones you have. But it was so striking compared to light-colored buildings and roads I'm used to seeing in Galicia and beyond.

Black and grey, everywhere

 

As a volcanic island, it's not exactly fertile. Nothing to do with green Galicia. There is little to no grass or soil on the island; just rocks, pebbles, and sand. It is not completely without vegetation, though. Cacti and palm trees are abundant in this arid land, even if the trees have to be watered with irrigation systems. And the most unexpected plant on Lanzarote is... grapes. In fact, the island has its own variety called malvasía volcánica and a certificate of origin for its wines. The way they grow the grapes is especially eye-catching: they dig and then build half-circles of dark, volcanic rock to protect the plants from the wind. Apparently the black crushed rocks (for lack of soil) do a good job of retaining the moisture from dew. The result is an extraterrestrial backdrop of rows of dark grey structures on a black surface with green flecks in between. Unfortunately we didn't have time to visit a winery, but that would have been awesome. At least we got to take some pictures and try this unique wine one night at dinner. 

 

Rows of Lanzarote grapes being protected. Out of this world!

Lava just froze

The main attraction in Lanzarote was a visit to Timanfaya National Park. (Pronounced like ¨team on fire.¨ Fits with the volcanic backdrop!) Once you enter the park grounds, all around is black hardened lava. It's like the volcano just exploded a few years ago. From the very organized parking lot, you board a bus which takes you around a curvy road carved into these rough black rocks. The 45-minute visit has recordings describing the history of the eruptions in Timanfaya in three languages, complete with apocalyptic music. The most recent eruptions took place at the end of the 19th century. It wasn't just one big mountain-like volcano. Instead, the earth opened all around and magma gushed out. Based on the expansiveness of the park, it had to be massive and terrifying. After all, it lasted six years!

Following the bus tour, park rangers show you a series of quick experiments to demonstrate just how hot it remains under the surface. First there is a a well-like hole a few meters deep. They have a pole not even 10 feet long that they use to push some dry vegetation down into the hole. Seconds later, it's up in flames! On your way to the next demonstration, someone hands out a few reddish pebbles, warning ¨hot! caliente! heiß!¨ And they really are. The next experiment involves some much smaller holes and a bucket of water. Pour down the bucket, wait a few seconds, and it comes whooshing up like a geyser. Lastly you can head into the gift shop or restaurant. It's not an experiment, but they have another well-like hole in the ground with a grate on top. There, a few dozen chicken breasts and thighs are cooking over the subterranean heat. 

 

Chicken roasting on an underground fire🎵

 

The national park isn't the only volcanic wonder on Lanzarote. Another remnant of the island's volcanic past is a cave-- or rather volcanic tunnel-- called Cueva de los Verdes. (For all you Spanish buffs, unfortunately there is nothing green about this cave. Its name comes from the ¨discoverers¨ last name.) As it's a tunnel, it's pretty straight, and is almost 5 miles long. It was formed when a nearby volcano erupted 4000 years ago and essentially filled the valley with lava. The cooling process created this neat formation. So no stalagmites or stalactites here.

Canary concert in los Jameos del Agua

This same volcanic tunnel continues quite a distance to a different location called the Jameos del Agua. More subterranean wonder. While the cave was only worked on to have a lighting system, the Jameos del Agua got a full makeover, including plants, a restaurant on one side, and a bar on the other. And we actually got the privilege of going for dinner! On Friday nights they open late for a special occasion: dinner and a concert. It was absolutely breathtaking, dining in this decorated cave. From the table, we could gaze at a long natural pool, home to a species of tiny blind crab found only in the Jameos. After dinner, we were free to roam the premises while waiting for the concert. The other side of the pool has a little dance floor, and then up through rocks the other side is open-air. Tables and a bar are scattered along the way up. Once you reach ground level, there is an artificial blue pool that looks lovely contrasting the white painting and dark shades of the rocks. When it came time for the concert, we perched ourselves at a table at the upper bar. The music was Canarian-- upbeat and fun. The whole evening was an unforgettable experience.  

 

Would love to take a dip in the Jameos del Agua

Imagine calling this place home!

Lanzarote's volcanic visits don't end there. Before catching the plane back to Galicia we stopped at the artist César Manrique's house. This local artist was behind the décor for the aforementioned volcanic tunnels and as a whole, was perhaps the island's biggest advocate in terms of preserving its natural splendor. Nowadays, you can visit both of his houses. We opted for the Casa del Volcán. I didn't expect much while visiting this artist's abode, but that was pretty silly of me. It was so simple but so unique! Mother Nature did most of the work, though. He built his house on land (that is, rock) that just so happened to have several volcanic ¨bubbles.¨ That means that the underground rooms naturally carved out of the rock got some sunlight from a hole in the surface. He painted white over most of the rock flooring and about halfway up the walls. He decked out the basement rooms with couches, and even added a small pool in the open area. The result was a totally far-out pad (it was the 70s, after all)!

Pool area at César Manrique's volcanic house

Llanes in Low Season

What to do when your best friend lives in Basque Country and you in Galicia? Meet up in the middle in good old Asturies. In April we met up in Llanes, despite the fact that all of us in our group had already been there before. It's a nice town with lots of charming architecture and just enough nightlife to keep you entertained. We did notice that the place has tons of bars, assumedly in the summer it is swarmed with tourists coming to visit nearby beaches. 

A lot of the architecture in Llanes is in the indiano style, typical of northern Galicia too. These ornate houses were built by returned emigrants who had made a fortune abroad. The well-preserved specimen below was right next to a completely dilapidated house. Should have taken its picture too for comparison. It wouldn't be an indiano house without a palm tree to pay homage to the land where said fortune was made-- in South or Central America.

As we only stayed one night, we didn't do a whole lot aside from walk around. Luckily it was great weather, so we were glad to be able to have coffees and drinks outside. When in Asturies, one must drink sidra, so that we did. I'm really never sure about the protocol, as you are supposed to share cups, but maybe not everyone in the group is keen to. Plus I've been told that it's rude to pour it yourself, as it suggests that the waiter/waitress pouring sidra is not attentive enough to your table's thirst. They generally come around asking if you'd like some more every 5-10 minutes. And it would appear that not all servers are equally skilled at sidra pouring. No surprise there, as you have to lift the bottle over your head and hold your hand with the glass at waist-level. Other sidrerías have graduated to giving out small pouring machines with your bottle of sidra. They aerate the sidra just as well or even better than if it were poured from up high, but it's just not the same. More convenient though, that's for sure. And no awkwardness of ¨Should I ask for a pour or just do it myself?¨either.

European charm

The next morning we went to nearby village and beach Celoriu. Coincidentally enough, we had both already been there, too. I had gone camping there in one of my first summers living in Galicia. But apparently it didn't make it to the blog back then. The reason for going this time around was for the menfolk to go fishing off the dock. We checked in on them shortly after they had settled in and that's when one of our companions caught his first ever fish! Too small to keep though. After a few hours, they fished something decent and we were able to have salpicón (a seafood cocktail of fish,  diced raw onions, carrots and peppers dressed with oil and vinegar) for dinner once home, not even 36 hours after we had first set off. 

 

Gusty day for fishing