Senderismo en Gipuzkoa

On Friday, David and I took a 4-hour hike on the mountainside. Recurring thought for the day:  I can't believe we're hiking without a coat in December! After a few days of postponing due to rain, Friday was an amazing day. I wore 2 long-sleeve shirts and a vest, and mostly had my sleeves rolled up because it was warm enough walking in the sun.

The first hill (Mt Ulia) admittedly left me out of breath. But from then on, it was less steep and relatively smooth. The trail wraps around the mountains, with almost constant views of the ocean. We stopped for lunch on a cliff with almost 180º of sea views. We walked all the way from Donostia to Pasaia. In reality, it's not that far, especially noted as we rode the bus back and it took about 15 minutes. It only makes me hungry for more hiking though! Some photos:

First of many great views (Playa Zurriola)

Someone left a Belén on the trail

Probably standing on a Roman aqueduct (too scared to cross it)

The other side of the port, Pasaia.

Nochebuena Donostiarra

Christmas Eve in San Sebastián was not unlike Christmas in America. Instead of anxiously awaiting Santa Claus, however, most kids were anticipating the arrival of Olentzero, a jolly Basque coal man, or Papá Noel, the Spanish equivalent of Santa. Unfortunately I wasn't feeling well enough to go see Olenztero and Mari Domingi parade around Parte Vieja. Surely it was a magical time, with a line full of children making their last-minute requests to them.

Dinner started on Spanish time around 9:30, obviously. It was a nice-sized gathering of my Spanish padres, their 3 grown children, a family friend, and me (la hija americana). Fancily enough, everyone had 3 glasses for drinks: champagne, wine, and a cocktail. Dinner consisted of a variety of plates to share, such as salmon, ham, oysters, foie, and prawn. It was my first experience with oysters (shocking since I've lived in coastal San Sebastián and Galicia), and I must say I enjoyed the taste of the salty sea. For dessert we had ice cream drizzled in hardened chocolate, almost like Klondike bars. While we were eating the king came on TV to give his discourse of the year, which  I imagine was treated like a joke in most households. Then political discussions commenced, an evidently international holiday tradition. With everyone talking at once, I didn't understand half of it, and that's perfectly fine with me.

After the sobremesa it was time to open presents. Hooraaaaay! I only brought everyone a coaster from my hometown, or a pair of earrings, but they seemed grateful regardless of the size. They even got me presents! Well, I already knew they planned to give me the CD of my hermano's band since he ruined the surprise. That was lucky, because I was planning to buy it anyways--and they sold out! But my madre also made her daughter and me some rosy-smelling lotions, and she knitted all of her kids a neck-warmer/buff/whatever you call it. So now that we all match, I definitely feel that I belong!

After exchanging gifts, the fun really started. One of my favorite hobbies: rocking out to Spanish music. But this time with my padre and DJ-hermano. The 3 of us sang "Agradecido" by Rosendo, and listened to some Spanish punk. Luis is a punk! Who knew?! Then the adults grooved to some classic Spanish rock/disco songs. Sharing good music is like sharing blood--instant connection. And with people I already considered my second family! (I knew they had to have good taste haha) Although I didn't spend Christmas with my own family, I got lucky and definitely had a noche buena. 

Santo Tomás en Donostia

Man, is it good to be back in Donostia-San Sebastián. It's just as wonderful as I remembered it. While I'm happy with my life in Lugo, it doesn't even come close to the glory of San Sebastián. And my awesome familia donostiarra, which welcomed me back with open arms (and tomorrow--lentejas, my favorite!)

I arrived early yesterday morning, just in time for the festival of Santo Tomás.  It's one of the two big holidays here (that and Tamborrada in January). The tradition comes from when the farmers came to the city annually to pay their rent, and took advantage to sell their wares in town. Now the day consists of lots of people dressed in traditional Basque outfits, booths that sell traditional Basque food like taloak (corn tortillas made by a group of women in front of  your very eyes), txistorrak (a spicy sausage), and sidra (the fermented apple drink). Also there is an enormous pig-- as long as a person, and two or three times as wide-- which is auctioned off. The sad part is it's on display. Does it realize all of these visitors mean it's imminent death? Who knows.

Ourense & Ribeira Sacra

Last Saturday a group of Auxiliares went to Ourense to celebrate my roommate's birthday. We went to as termas (hot spring bath) Burgas in the middle of the city. I (luckily?) forgot my towel so didn't bathe. It was odd because it was quite public, just a small changing room, and then passersby could observe you in the pool. There was a fountain by it with naturally scalding hot water. After the hot bath, we spent the day wandering around the city and stopping in a handful of cafes and shoe stores.

Las chicas en el Puente Romano

This weekend Lauren and I returned to Ourense with another group of friends--mostly Lucenses and a pair of Germans. Because we went with people who knew what they were doing, we went to a very nice termas called Outariz. You had to pay 5 euros to get in, meaning it was more upscale and private. We arrived after  9 o'clock. Bathing outside under the moon at the riverside. Dreamy. There are about 15 different baths to enter. Theoretically between two hot baths, you go in a cool bath so as not to die. We skipped some of these cool baths because it was bloody cold outside (close to midnight in the middle of December-- it's to be expected) as we scurried from bath to bath. The contrast between air temp and water temp was often extreme, and produced vapors which made it seem all the more relaxing. The experience left me ready for bed, except it was midnight and we still hadn't eaten dinner. By the time we picked up pizzas and had gone to our home for the night (aka our friend's grandparents' country home), I  figured we would go to bed and save our energies for today's 12 km hike. But no. Almost everyone thought it'd be a great idea to stay up til 3 playing cards. It was pretty cool, because I haven't played with a Spanish deck yet, and I like cards...but I was way too zoned out to take directions in Spanish. No pasa nada.

This morning everyone woke up a bit groggy. We had a very Spanish breakfast of coffee/Cola Cao and toast/cookies, and were only 1 hour behind our 10 AM starting goal. First we went to Ourense to see the city for a bit. Although it's bigger than Lugo, it's not really chock-full of tourist destinations. Afterwards we went towards Ribeira Sacra, a region now famous for it's wine. It's incredible to see the hills completely  full of rows and rows of grape vines (although at this time of year they were just dry vines). One company doesn't own an entire hillside, rather families own a few rows which are passed down through generations. Apparently everyone knows which are theirs, but there can be territory disagreements too.
We took in some great views at three different miradoiros or viewpoints. Al final, we didn't do our big hike like we'd planned, but it was probably better that way. We did get some exercise walking around the miradoiros. It was such great weather, especially for the middle of December. We had sandwiches outside and didn't even need a winter coat.

Grupo majo al último mirador

Auxiliar Tales

I realize I'm far from being Spain's greatest auxiliar, but sometimes I feel accomplished when the students both laugh and learn. Éxito! In some of the classes I feel like I can make an ass out of myself, and it's ok because they'll laugh with me. Other classes are a bit more 'intimidating' shall we say, and I'm more conscious of acting like an idiot.

This week with 1º Eso, I spent 20 minutes making animal noises in English. (Spanish roosters say qui-qui-ri-qui, dogs say guau-guau, and the rest of the animals are bilingual Spanish-English). Or in 3º Eso I finally clarified the difference between fun and funny. To do this I said "Playing football is fun, riding a bike is fun," and made a thumbs up sign. "A movie is funny, a joke is funny, a person is funny" ha-ha-ha-ha. "Riding a bike is not funny," as I pretended to ride a bike while fake laughing. That's just maniacal. Somebody thought this was funny, so hopefully they'll remember this important lesson.

Another important lesson for Spanish speakers is the difference between short i (as in shit) and long e (as in sheet). In Spanish, i is always pronounced as our "ee,' and they only have 5 vowel sounds in total. So it can be difficult for them to pronounce it, let alone hear a difference. To quote the video An Italian Man Went to Malta, "you betta not sheet on the bed, you son of a beach!"

And here are some interesting results from this week's oral exams (with 16-year-olds, mind you):

-Do you think teaching is a difficult job?
-Carlos Hernández

-What are your hobbies?
-I ride a bike and kill birds.

-What are your hobbies?
-Chewing sunflower seeds.

Sunday, Sunday

In Spain, Sunday really is a day of rest. The shops are closed and there's not many obligations. So after reading the paper (and understanding a word game in Galician, score!), I went with Lauren on a walk along the Río Miño, and over both the Roman and modern bridges. Although it's the first of December, the water was calm.

Thanksgiving in Galicia

Yesterday was Thanksgiving in America, but to Galicians it was a Thursday like any other. Except for a handful of Galicians who came over to a Thanksgiving dinner hosted by Lauren and me. The ironic part was even with the 6-hour time difference between here and home, we had our meal around the same time.

The day started at my teaching job. Don't we get off for American holidays? A few of the classes were having oral exams, and in gym class they told me "Congratulations," an attempted wish for a Happy Thanksgiving. Around 5:00 Lauren and I began the process of cooking. We've never cooked a bird alone before, let alone in Spain. The two chickens we got had a few little feathers and hairs on them, which Lauren diligently plucked for a time. She even tried burning them off, but eventually grew tired of the task and let it be. Aside from chicken (not turkey, pero da igual), we had stuffing, mashed potatoes, and corn. We were a bit concerned there wouldn't be enough, but we even had leftovers. For dessert was an impressive pumpkin pie by Lauren-- she had to buy a pumpkin and puree it the old-fashioned way, since canned pumpkin is not an option here-- and filloas, a crepe-like dessert, made by her roommate. I think we did America proud. ;)

Although 4 people had to sit on the couch to eat, I think it was a perfect number of guests. Nine of us squeezed around the table, but that made it cozier and Thanksgiving-like. We all went around the table saying what we were thankful for. Mostly everyone was grateful to be among such charming & fun company.  After dinner, we were entertained by Diego on the guitar, and some interesting attempts at singing. There were plenty of songs in Galician/Spanish, but we had to pull up the lyrics even for the natives. My 'assignment' was to memorize a song by Os Heredeiros da Crus, "Non quero nada de ti." I worked so hard on it, but still couldn't spit the words out fast enough. Better luck next time.

As a Spanish twist, most guests left by 1 AM, but two of my best friends stayed til 4:30 AM. Evidently we were enjoying each other's company.

Sunny day in Lugo, so I walked the entirety of the wall. And because I don't post nearly enough photos:

Subject is unrelated

Just some thoughts/anecdotes relevant to my time here:

• Spanish people do not eat on-the-go. My theory is that it would end up being a hassle if people ate while walking down the street, because everyone would have to say "buen provecho!" and "que aproveche" every 10 seconds. Here if someone is eating something of 'substance,' acquaintances, friends, and even strangers will tell you to enjoy it. Contrarily, in English this act is so uncommon, we don't even have a phrase for this--we just use the French bon apetit when necessary. 
• What does pity party mean to you? Perhaps eating an entire gallon of ice cream, while crying alone in your room. To our Spanish friends, it is what we would consider a normal night in: watching TV, surfing the net, eating junk food. This weekend we had a sort of girls' night/pity party which was extra pitiful due to our lack of internet. (But we have it at last!) We resorted to playing old-timey games such as Who Am I Thinking Of? And Name All 50 States. 
• Yesterday in class, one of my oldest students asked how to say vasos (cups/glasses). I said, "Glasses, like these" as I pointed to my glasses on my face. He replies, "Nonono, esas son gafas (the word for glasses on your face) quiero decir vasos" It was probably one of those you-had-to-be-there-to-find-the-humor moments, but another student laughed about it for 3 minutes. 
• And here's me working on some promos for Galicia/Spain
• Imagine a land where cheesecake actually tastes like cheese: GALICIA(or all of Spain?)
• Imagine a land where the passing lane is actually used solely for passing: GALICIA (Spain?)

More Magosto

Sometimes I feel bad for other auxiliares assigned in Galicia, because every day I'm more convinced that my instituto has the coolest and nicest teachers and staff. My coordinator in specific is mega-awesome, and we have certainly bonded just in the past month. Out of the entire staff, only three people have not had some sort of conversation explaining things to me.  It used to be four, but today I asked one the difference between bizcocho and torta. (In English I’d consider them both cakes, so it’s not worth explaining here) Oftentimes I don’t even have to ask a question— they just offer comments or cultural tidbits. Such lessons as “you can’t eat octopus without red wine or by yourself— that’s just depressing” or “Skip A Coruña because you can find that kind of city in America.”

On Wednesday to celebrate Magosto, most of the teachers stayed to have lunch together. There were potatoes and chorizo, accompanied by red wine and apple empanada for dessert.  I had announced that I don’t like chorizo, which almost seemed a horrifying concept. I offered to try it again, and to their relief and fascination, it wasn’t half bad this time. They thought I liked it, but more accurately I didn’t dislike it. After the meal we went outside where the kids were listening to techno music and later played traditional games, including musical chairs. Of course chestnuts were available, too (no, gracias). So this Magosto was a good chance for both kids and adults to relax and be autumnal. 

Magical Magosto

                I didn´t take any pictures, so all you get is words. Magosto is an autumnal celebration in Galicia which consists of gathering with friends to eat chestnuts. It’s not on a set day—and in fact next week I’ll celebrate Magosto at school—but Friday we celebrated with friends. There were about 15 of us: five foreigners and the rest Lucenses. Lauren and I knew mostly everyone from last weekend or earlier, as I feel we have been adopted by the coolest cuadrilla (group of friends) in Lugo. 

                Dinner was at someone’s house—and I mean a legit country home that reminded me of America. We had tortilla de patata, which was a real treat since I can’t make it myself and thus haven’t had it for a while. We also had Diego’s homemade beer, with labels that had the cartoon “Go Diego Go” on them.  Amusing. After the meal came the Magosto part—chestnuts roasted over a fire, in a wood-burning stove.  I don’t even like chestnuts, but I ate two anyway (which is the amount I contributed to the dinner, having collected two measly castañas the day before with one of my teachers). Someone collected 10 kilos in her yard, so there was plenty to go around and everyone had their own newspaper cone.

                Then the jam session began: one guitar, one percussionist using bottles, and a room full of Lucenses singing in Spanish and Galician. The best part was when I actually knew some of the lyrics! They sang two songs I recognized from the Heredeiros da Crus concert during San Froilán: ‘Eu quero josar’ and ‘Non quero nada de ti.’ It was delightful. Then they played some songs in English, thinking we’d know the lyrics but we didn’t. Except for ‘Just like Heaven,’ a classic in my own words. Unsurprisingly, the night left me feeling that I had found a place just like heaven.  (So cursi, yet so true)

Gallegos y Asturianos: Primos Hermanos

 I need to stop labeling things as ¨memorable¨ since pretty much every weekend here is memorable!  :D  This weekend especially, being a puente and all.

Jaloguin:
In Galicia, they have a holiday similar to Halloween— Samhaín. And by similar I mean it’s the original Celtic celebration from which Halloween is derived. At the school where I work there was a pumpkin carving contest, with some impressive results. There was also an assembly where students and I read about Samhaín and Halloween in galego, castellano, and English.  The tradition of trick-or-treating does not exist here, and dressing up isn’t as common with “adults” either. Lauren and I first celebrated at the piso of two Americans. We were all dressed up, obviously. Then we went to hang out with Lugo’s finest (aka my Galician friends and their friends). We got some funny looks for being dressed up—I had a beard (lumberjack!) and another American wore lederhosen. The gang of Lucenses was dressed normally too, except for Diego the monkey haha. En suma, we had an awesome time and stayed out until it was 7 AM and time for us to pack up and catch a bus to Asturias. I feared the no-sleeping-idea would be one of my most regretted decisions, but it turns out it was well worth it and we were able to sleep on the bus/at siesta time.

Asturias:

Our first stop was Oviedo. The architecture was noticeably prettier than in Lugo, and I was later informed that this is because Asturias is/was a principality. The prince of Spain is called El príncipe de Asturias, so duh, I should’ve made the connection.  The weather was rainy basically all Friday, so we spent our time with a little shopping, and sitting in a park. Despite the weather it was pleasant, just having a change of surroundings and enjoying the company of an amiga. For dinner we had Cabral cheese which was too strong for me, membrillo which I already knew I liked, and some seafood (obviously it didn’t blow my mind because I can’t remember it).

Whatcha thinkin, Woody?

Saturday morning we went to Gijón. It’s a coastal city that reminds me of San Sebastián. Teño morriña! Also like San Sebastián, it was beautiful even with crappy weather. We did quite a bit of walking around, without visiting any particular attraction. For lunch we had knife clams which were okay, mostly I’d call them “interesting” for their appearance. Also chipirón a la cantábrica which was delicious. Chipirón (squid) sometimes doesn’t taste great when prepared on the grill, mostly because of the texture. But this was in a sort of casserole, thus tastier. For dinner we went to a sidrería (more Basqueness!) We got there a bit after 8:30, and felt like old people because nobody was there! By the time we left closer to 10:00, the place was packed. We had a bottle of sidra, chorizo, and ham croquettes between the 2 of us. It was fun trying to pour for ourselves like the waiter did behind the bar. Cider must be poured from a distance to let it air out, but man is it hard to aim!

A Memorable Weekend

Thursday marked my 1-month since the adventure began. Lauren and I went out with the Spanish gang, and stayed out til 6 AM. For people in Spain, this is no grand feat. Most of my friends have probably stayed out even later twice a week for the past month. But I like to go to bed “early” by 2 or 3, so finally staying out late was an accomplishment. I believe it was due to the music selection, because this time with our Spanish friends’ wisdom, we were able to go to places that play rock music: songs that I actually want to sing along to.

 Friday I slept and relaxed in preparation for the pulpo (octopus) dinner with the teachers of my school.  It’s an annual tradition among groups of colleagues, friends, and families, because along with the fiestas of San Froilán come the casetas. Casetas are simple, little restaurants only put up in the month of October; next weekend they will be taken down. Restaurants from Lugo open them, and they only include long tables set for big groups to come feast on octopus. Outside of the temporary building is a a type of 3-sided shack where you can watch them cooking the pulpo to a deep-red/violet color in great big pots. It’s served on wooden plates, because they soak up the water from the freshly prepared pulpo. Because it’s Spain, dinner started around 10:30. First were plates of sliced ham and other meats, and tasty bits of pork (with bread and vino tinto, of course). Then was the main course of octopus and potatoes. It was quite salty, but overall good. This time I couldn’t feel the tentacles as much.  Everyone was really curious as to what my reaction would be, or if I would even try it. There was dessert afterwards, but I was honestly a bit full to sample everything. After the meal we walked around (at a Spanish pace, might I add), and the other teachers went out for a drink around 2 AM. Unfortunately I went home because Saturday was an early morning for me, but I had a swell time eating pulpo with some swell teachers. Here we all are laughing at something: 

Saturday morning, a group of 15 internationals (and a few Lucenses) left on a minibus to explore some Galician towns. The first stop was a mirador, with awesome views of the ocean beating against a green rocky coast. There were even wild horses! Then we went down to the little town by the coast, San Andrés de Teixido. The architecture of white with rocks was simple but interesting. From the town we walked down to a supposedly lucky fountain, and even further down closer to the coastal cliff. Past the fountain we encountered hundreds of bits of cloth or plastic tied to fences. Apparently after you drink from the fountain, you wipe your mouth with something and tie it so your wish will come true. 

The next stop was another mirador. Rather than the rocky coast, this one emphasized the limitlessness of the sea. The blues of the clouds, sky, and sea become indistinguishable at the horizon. After this we went to the small city of Cedeira. Here we all had lunch, including squid, croquettes, spicy meat, and plenty of fresh French fries. Afterwards, Lauren, Estefanía, Diego, and I went to the town’s port (pretty sad, but appropriate since it wasn’t a big city). Then we went to the beach for about 5 minutes. It was covered in dried algae which reeked like lawn clippings on a hot summer’s day. At least we can say we went to the beach in October (although it wasn’t warm enough to nap, like I did 2 years ago in Donostia :P).

After sea and mountain, the next natural feature was forest and river, at As Fragas do Eume. We walked along in the woods for a while, which reminded me of home. Except that our mini-trek ended in a centuries-old monastery built to include the very rocks of the hill it was on.  There was also an old mill. The final stop was Ponte do Eume, a big town on the same river, Eume. We all meandered up a hill to have a coffee. And so ended our excursion of northwest Galicia.

Daytripper

Saturday we took advantage of the good weather outside Lugo for a multi-stop Galician day trip. Chelsea selected a few towns, and her friend Guillermo drove us to places less accessible in bus. First stop was As Catedrais, on a beach. The views were impresionante, and it’s no wonder they are named ‘the Cathedrals,’ as visiting seems like a holy experience. Pictures can only capture some of its glory:

Next we ate lunch at a restauarant in Rinlo. Chelsea made reservations because it has quite a reputation. The meal was a pan of rice with pieces of lobster and crab, and shrimp in the Spanish tradition of seafood so fresh you have to remove the shells yourself.  It was literally finger-licking good (para chuparse los dedos), even though we were given towelettes to clean up. It was supposedly for two, but along with bread, wine, and dessert, it filled the three of us.

Ready for a siesta, we persevered to Ribadeo, another small town on the coast. Here we wandered around during the vacancy of siesta time, and had coffee on a terrace in the harbor. I took a picture of a lovely lilac-colored building with an old cinema sign. Next we went to Mondoñero, a large town in the midst of its festival weekend, much like our San Froilán. We enjoyed more Galician music, and a show of horses dancing.

I felt Spanish in that I was full from lunch until 9 at night, when most Spaniards dine.  But unlike perhaps many Spaniards, I spent my Saturday night on my couch reading For Whom the Bell Tolls, rather than going out until dawn. That allowed me to get up early enough to get some bread and breakfast before the bakeries closed for the day on Sunday. When I went to buy newspaper, I was greeted by a woman from La Voz de Galicia, doing a promotion about learning English. She tried to hand me a paper about it when I finally said “Soy….I am English,” and we both chuckled at the mistake. Made my day that she thought I was Galician/Spanish based solely on appearance. J

Tenderness: It's what's for lunch

Se acabó San Froilán. Last Saturday night was the last of it, as evidenced by the streets full of festival-goers. I went out with an American, two Germans, and a few Galicians. We spoke Spanish all night, which given our location seems obvious, but is often not the case. It’s too easy to go to a country for an extended period of time, and revert to a comfort zone of companions that speak your native language. I know this feeling all too well. And while it’s useful to be able to unwind and complain in the mother tongue (as I do with my Scottish roommate), this year I’m going to make an effort to seek out people with whom to talk Spanish.

Speaking of language studies (my attempt at transitioning), my Galician class is going pretty well. There are now more students (a whopping SEIS 6), and I’m not the only non-Spain native. It’s only annoying sometimes when the Spaniards seem to know what they’re talking about and I don’t, or they start talking Spanish so swiftly and I’m left daydreaming rather than paying attention. Apparently galego is very similar to Brazilian Portuguese, more so than to Portuguese from Portugal. Then when people come from Brazil and hear Galego being spoken, they think it’s Castilian Spanish and that it’s really easy.  Err— wrong. When I went to the photocopier to print my Galego book, he asked why I’m learning it and if I find it harder than Castilian. Well if you really wanna know... Anyways, I think people are even more open if you show an interest in the second official language.

Now on to language blunders, my favorite. The other day a few teachers and I went out to eat lunch. It was my first time actually in the town (the school is on the outskirts and we don’t pass through the town).  As a second dish, I asked for tenderness (ternura) instead of the meat (ternera). Classic. Another time I said I was too petada to eat anymore, thinking it meant “full” when in fact it means “crowded”. My stomach was crowded, okay?!

Viva San Froilán!

Friday marked the start of San Froilán, Lugo’s grand festival. It highlights the Gallego traditions but also includes modern fun. I knew it was supposed to be big since it lasts a week, but since Lugo has less than 100,000 inhabitants, I didn’t expect it to be this wild. Imagine a town’s homecoming fair… plus a music festival and a never-ending flea market, with festivities consistently lasting til the wee hours. Seriously, at 2:45 AM, one stage was still occupied, and the streets were still bustling with everyone from toddlers to the elderly.

To start, we witnessed the showing of livestock in front of the town hall. It was interesting until I noticed they were being dragged by the ring in their noses.

Later on Jenny, Lauren, and I headed to a concert by Heredeiros da Crus, a Galician band. The music was sway- and jump-worthy rock, and the ambiance was fun. I love when people can sing along, even if I can’t. It was like a game for me to see what I could understand, and then try to sing along with the crowd on choruses.  This was my favorite of groups that played their own music. We also checked out the fair part which included some kiddie rides, Bingo, churros, and lots of bright lights. We left feeling a sensory overload.

Saturday was the saint’s actual holiday, and for my part included some people-watching in the Plaza Mayor. An estimated 110,000 people attended San Froilán, coming from nearby pueblos to celebrate with their families, so there was definitely a lot to observe. Then, once again, was a variety of concerts. In the afternoon groups performed traditional Galician music (bagpipes and drums) and dance. Later on there was a band that sang English cover songs. When it got dark I watched fireworks from my apartment. Then two of us headed out to a concert by Festicultores, a Galician ska band. After we tired of dancing to ska, we headed to the other stage which was surrounded by older folks. It was a pop group that apparently sang Spanish hits. A bit later some of the older people dispersed and it became rock music. To be specific, they played some of my favorite Spanish bands such as Extremoduro, “El Roce de tu Cuerpo” by Platero y Tú, and “Posada de los Muertos” by Mägo de Oz. Safe to say I was stoked and screamed the lyrics with the best of them.

Sunday was a chill day, as if Lugo was recovering from two nights of all-night fiestas. However there were more wandering Galician bands, with people spontaneously waltzing (or whatever it was). At night we went to La Pegatina’s concert with Lauren’s Spanish roommate and friend. They’re a bit more famous in Spain, and play a variety of upbeat tunes, like ska meets merengue. Apart from being happy dance music, the band seems really down-to-earth. One of the members put on a cape and crowdsurfed as we cheered “Es el super galego.” 

Creepy street performer puppet

Concerts have been going on every night since, and will end in a grand finale of the popular Spanish band, Love of Lesbian. I went to a show a few days ago that was Celtic/Galician and people in the crowd just got up to dance a special Gallego dance, and then just regular dancing in pairs. 

First day

Off to a great start. I only had one class today; my time at school was mostly spent walking around and being introduced to all the teachers. They were all very friendly and welcoming. What people recognize from America usually is unrelated to me. They know New York, California, Texas, and pop culture that permeates the planet. Surprisingly one student was very interested in the Amish, which is quite close to my hometown. I talked to one teacher about gun control –or lack thereof— in America.  The professors and students talk a lot of Galician or Galician/Spanish among each other, so I’m glad I signed up for the Galician class. (Starting tonight!) I went with a few professors to the café right outside of the school, which seems like a nice, common occurrence. Another thing to add to the differences between Galicia and Basque Country—here they automatically bring free pintxos/tapas with your drink. Guay!

After one day of class I've already set up a weekly English conversation session. They even live in my building, which is convenient. Then there’s another teacher who asked me about doing lessons on the side, so I may not even have to advertise myself. I feel quite lucky to be in demand. Having English as a first language is handy in that regard: people want to learn English because it’s common. But on the other hand it can lead us to believe there’s no reason to learn other languages since “everyone knows English.” Clearly that’s not how I roll. 

My first gallego class also went very well. There's only one other student, so we'll be getting lots of practice. We didn't learn much exactly, but the teacher only speaks in gallego except sometimes translating a word to Spanish. She asked how long I've been in Galicia  and was surprised to learn it's only been a week. She said based on my comprehension of when she speaks gallego, she assumed two months. Toma ya!

Settling in Lugo

Lugo. The only city which has a complete Roman wall still standing is located in Galicia an hour in from the coast.  Galicia, not unlike the Basque Country, is known for its wet weather which makes for its green scenery. So rainy that Lugo has a store dedicated to selling only umbrellas, una paraguería. Sixty-euro umbrellas which I cannot afford.  On the other hand, I’ve found the food here to be very affordable, noticeably cheaper than San Sebastián. Today I paid 95 cents for an enormous chocolate-covered croissant, and a baguette for only 33 cents. Also, as a general Spain phenomenon, bottles of wine for less than 2 euros!

My Scottish roommate and I found a piso (apartment) within a few days of being here.  It’s nothing short of fantastic: fairly new and therefore modernly furnished; we each get our own bathroom (mine with the most complicated shower I’ve ever seen); and the location is great, close to la muralla (the Roman wall which contains the city center/old town), bus station, and apparently a bunch of teachers at my school.  We already had a little housewarming gathering.

Ah, school. Tuesday is our first official day, and after beginning I’ll hopefully start to feel like this is real and not just a lengthy vacation.  I’ve already met with my school’s language coordinator who is very welcoming and helpful.  I’m looking forward to getting back to somewhat of a schedule.

Volver

This time two years ago I was adjusting quite nicely to life in San Sebastián-Donostia. Tomorrow I'm returning to Spain, but the opposite side of the country: Galicia. I believe Basque Country and Galicia will be quite similar; both lush green thanks to an abundance of rainy weather, both with their own languages in addition to castellano, both coastal beauties. I've never been to Galicia, but am no doubt looking forward to the adventure of living there and teaching English. After an early Thanksgiving dinner with the family last night, and watching "The Way" tonight, I'm just about ready for this nuevo capítulo gallego.