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!