Fun Galician Words

If you've read this blog before, by now you should know that Galicia has its own language, galego. After a few years of living here, I made the switch to speaking in Galician and now almost exclusively speak it (except for English of course). Some characteristics I like about the language are the sound, especially the letter x which is pronounced like ¨sh¨. I also appreciate the plethora of contractions, like my own native language. Especially when you compare it with Spanish's only two options del and al, Galician has a ton. 

There are a lot of cute Galician words, but many of them don't mean what you think they'd mean based on a literal translation. Can you guess what these words mean based on their literal translations?

1. riquiño/riquiña

literally ¨little rich¨  

actually ¨cute, adorable¨

This has to be one of the most common words in Galician, as far as adjectives go. It means cute/sweet. But don't get your hopes up, because if your crush uses it to describe you, he/she likely means it in a you're-sweet-but-not-attractive-to-me kind of way. Oops.

2. cabalo do demo

literally ¨devil's horse¨

actually ¨dragonfly¨

Why do they call them devil's horse? Probably the same reason we call them dragon's fly (although at least they do fly...)

3. sapoconcho

literally ¨toad-shell¨

actually ¨tortoise¨

When you think about it, this one makes so much sense. What are tortoises if not shelled toads?

4. miñaxoia

literally ¨my jewel¨

actually ¨gullible, poor thing¨

One time someone called me this, and at first I was delighted because it sounds like a term of endearment. Wrong. How did ¨my jewel¨ evolve into that?!

 

5. lucecú

literally ¨light butt¨

actually ¨firefly¨

Another one that is actually spot on. I must admit, lightning bugs have a dozen different names in Galician, probably also depending on where you live. But I just adore this one because it's so accurate. (The more standardized word for it is vagalume, literally meaning ¨wandering fire.¨ That's sweet!) 

 

6. mexacán

literally ¨piss dog¨

actually ¨dandelion¨

In speech, most Galician people would probably use the Spanish translation of this flower, which is similar to English diente de león. But in a book about natural remedies I saw mexacán and found it amusing. Apparently the actual etymology is bed rather than dog, because dandelions are a diuretic. Either way, it sounds silly.

 7. rula

literally ¨turtle dove¨

actually ¨sweetheart, dear¨

From studying Spanish I already knew that apparently every language has its own objects it compares to someone being dear. In English we have honey and sweetie, in Spanish they have heaven or ¨my life.¨ And in Galician, if someone calls you ¨my turtle dove¨ take it as a compliment! Surprisingly the opposite of ¨my jewel.¨

 

I'm sure there are plenty more curious Galician words, but that's all for now!

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

Top 20 Galician Festivals 🎉

Good weather is here to stay in Galicia. And with that, a celebration is in order! While Spain as a whole is known for partying and celebrations, Galicia in particular has an endless list of festivals. Whether you're fond of food, eager for a blast from the past, or wanting to embrace local culture, Galicia has got a festival for everyone! I've decided to compile the best here. Some I've been to, and some are still on my to-do list. Check 'em out!

Historical:

• Feira Franca, Pontevedra. In September, get transported back to the Middle Ages. The city gets decked out for the day, but I remember being disappointed that not everyone was dressed up. (My experience)
  
• Arde Lucus, Lugo. Kick off summer with a wildly popular clash of Roman and Celtic (Castrexo) cultures. It lasts the whole weekend and has many events such as a Roman circus, reenactments, and interactive ceremonies like Celtic baptisms. (My experience)
  
• Assault on the Castle, Vimianzo. Another Medieval Fest, but specifically around the episode which took place at this castle in 1468. In that year there was an irmandiño rebellion where they sieged the castle. Nowadays they do a reenactment where all can participate. Maybe next year will be the year I finally make it there.
  
• Ribadeo Indiano, Ribadeo. This event celebrates indianos, those Galician emigrants to Latin America lucky enough to return home with a fortune at the beginning of the 20th century. The dress code for this event is white, preferably in early 20th century style. Ribadeo -- and the northern coastal region of A Mariña in general-- has many examples of indiana architecture: ornate mansions from the turn of the century. So it must make for a lovely backdrop. Some day!
• Romaría Vikinga, Catoira. Once again off to the Middle Ages, but with a Viking twist. At this festivity they reenact the arrival of the Vikings to Galicia, who at the time were fought off. Now there are only two towers in ruins on the riverside where merrymakers welcome and party with the vikings, rather than clash with them.
  
• Festa da Istoria, Ribadavia. Around for over 30 years, this might be Galicia's original Medieval Fair. If you're looking to be transported back to the Middle Ages, you really have options in Galicia.

 

Roman fort in Arde Lucus

Gastronomic:

• Albariño Festival, Cambados. People swarm to this small capital of white wine, which keeps the crowds entertained at night with concerts. I've been and would certainly go again.
  
• Ribeiro Wine Festival, Ribadavia. Perhaps Galicia's less famous white wine, Ribeiro is celebrated in late spring. A special touch is the wine tasting in a historical building. (My experience)
  
• Wine Festival, Chantada. Always in late winter/early spring, this mostly-red-with-a-dash-of-white wine festival kicks off the year in enology. The downside on its timing is that often the weather does not cooperate. (My experience)
  
• San Simón Cheese Fest, Vilalba. Haven't been yet, but as one of my favorite types of cheese over here, it's certainly on my list! The day's events include cheese tasting and music.
  
• Seafood Festival, O Grove. Razor clams, cockles, barnacles, or crab. Pick your pleasure at this event which celebrates all things seafood on the shores of the Rías Baixas. Plus, no Galician festival is complete without some concerts at night. I must admit I've never been because not only am I not a huge fan of seafood, but it always coincides with San Froilán in October.  
  
• Flat Onion Fest, Miño. In Galicia, every food is deserving of its own festival. Case in point, the flat onion. Not that I'd necessarily recommend going out of your way to attend. Unless you are crazy for this pungent veggie, that is. But it just goes to show that they'll make a festival out of anything here. For example, the following foods also boast their own festival here in Galicia: bread, sea lamprey, hake, Spanish omelette, pepper, tuna, ham, eel, the list goes on.

Onions, onions everywhere

 

Cultural:

• Cans Film Fest, Cans. If movies are more your thing, head to this tiny, tiny village between Vigo and Portugal. It's a pun on Cannes, because the village name is similar. Audiences gather to watch short films in barns, garages, anywhere! And in the evening there are concerts for your entertainment. I've been twice and would go back in a heartbeat, but there are only so many weekends in a year. ;)
  

 

Film screening over pile of wood in Cans

 

Music

• Resurrection Fest, Viveiro. Masses of metal/rock fans from all over Europe--and maybe even the world!-- flock to pack the town of Viveiro. It's a weekend full of dozens of concerts, always with some internationally-acclaimed headliners. This year will be my first time going, so stay tuned!
• International Celtic Music Fest, Ortigueira. I've never been, but have heard many tales of the fun environment found at this festival. They bring in Celtic bands from all over the world for a summer weekend of Celtic fun.
   

 Miscellaneous

• Carrilanas (Soap Box Derby), Esteiro. I'm dying to get to this one. It's a summer soap box derby by day with big-name concerts by night! 
• Rapa das Bestas, Sabucedo and others. Hundreds of wild horses are corralled annually for a haircut and de-worming. After the job is done, a celebration ensues.
• Dorna Boat Fest, Ribeira. This longstanding festival on the coast celebrates their traditional fishing boat (dorna), a key part of life in this town for ages. It has mushroomed from a one-day gathering when it started in the late 1940s to its current form: nearly a week of activities, games, concerts, and fun for groups dressed in matching t-shirts. It even has an Icarus competition where people try to make flying contraptions, as well as a Soap Box Derby.
  
• Water Festival, Vilagarcía de Arousa. In the middle of August, this celebration is all about water to cool you down. I've never had the pleasure of attending, but from what you can see on videos online, looks like a riot! I have heard that it is more geared towards the ¨youth¨ than the middle-aged and older. 
• Corpus Christi, various. Several towns in Galicia celebrate Corpus Christi in a similar way: by designing giant ¨rugs¨ made out of petals in the streets. One year I went and watched them work at night in Redondela. It was cool, but not much of a ¨festival¨ if you are looking for a wild time.
  

 

Preparing the petal murals in Redondela

And I didn't even get into patron saint celebrations, which can be a massive event in Galician cities. Not to mention special days celebrated throughout Galicia, such as Magosto or Midsummer. So if you're planning a trip to Galicia, why not schedule your visit around a fab festival that piques your interest?  You surely won't be disappointed. Galicians know how to have a good time!

Having Fun Teaching English

In my decade in Spain, I have always worked somehow teaching English. When I first came back after study abroad, I worked as an auxiliar de conversación, a language assistant in a high school. Then I had a stint at an academia, where students learn English after school all over Spain. Now I am an autónoma, meaning self-employed (a topic worth a blog post of its own). So I still spend my days with kids and teenagers, and still treasure the fun misunderstandings and cultural differences.

This week I asked a 16-year-old student where he hung out with his friends. Keep in mind, here in Spain 18 is the legal age to both drive and drink alcohol, so it's not like he could just hop in his car and go somewhere. ¨At the bar.¨ What?? I've been here long enough to know that bars are okay for all-ages. In the beginning I remember being shocked seeing little kids at bars, even if they were accompanying their parents. But still, even now, his answer came off as so strange. Imagine my underage student and his pals having a pop at a seedy, dark bar like back home. He met my surprise with his own bafflement. ¨So then where do kids get a Coke in the United States? What do you mean they hang out at people's houses?!¨ Cultural differences still exist, however small they may be.

My youngest ¨student¨ is 4. A while back she used to speak jibberish to me, I believe in an attempt at ¨speaking my language.¨ Her new favorite joke is saying things that are wrong and then cracking up when I call her a silly goose. For example, she points to the number 3 and says ¨Five¨ or the color red and says ¨yellow,¨ and waits grinning for me to catch her mistake. Obviously, at 4 she doesn't know a ton, but after 2 years it seems that she understands me and has a good basic vocabulary of animals, colors, numbers.

On the other end of the spectrum are two teenage sisters who I have worked with for the past four years. They have a great level of English, so we just spend the hour chatting or even gossiping. Sometimes when I leave they trill, ¨Love youu¨ like we're besties. They also argue over which of them knows me better. Daymakers! 

Most days, I just get such a kick out of teaching English over here.

Solos en una Isla Griega: Kimolos Top 3

OK, it's time to wrap this Greece trip recap up, before a whole year has passed since we went. Last but not least, was the island of Kimolos. On the whole, our two-week journey was ordered from more hectic to more relaxed. We started off with big-city Athens with lots to see, then coastal towns/cities that were a little slower-paced but still quite busy, followed by the small island of Milos, and lastly the tiny island of Kimolos. Kimolos makes Milos look big and bustling in comparison. 

Apparently, part of Chorio's castle

The ferry ride between the two islands is barely half an hour. Although a smattering of houses can be found near the port and on other parts of the island, Kimolos really only has one village, Chorio. And it's so charming! All painted white with blue accents. Even the stones on the ground were outlined in white paint. (The island's official website has tons of info in English, FYI)

On quiet island time, our schedule was as follows: mornings at the beach, lunch, nap, stroll around town in the mild evenings, catch a glimpse of the sunset, dinner on our patio, bed, repeat.

 

We strayed from our routine on three occasions: 

1. Hike to Skiadi. A must see in Kimolos. The short hike is worth it to see this giant mushroom rock. And frankly, it was nice to do something other than go to the beach. The trail is well-indicated, and for the hour there we were totally alone amongst a barren backdrop. On the way back, we ran into another couple who asked in Greek, ¨How far away is Skiadi?¨ At least that's what I thought they said, so I answered in English. She seemed satisfied enough with my reply. Anyways, you don't have to be a geologist to appreciate this very unique rock formation, nor do you have to be an expert trekker to get there. 

Skiadi!

2. Movie Night. One of the most serendipitous events on our trip was a little outdoor film screening. We had heard about it from some hitchhikers we picked up and decided to check it out for ourselves. As the sun was going down, the water was just warm enough to go in. Crossing ¨sunset dip¨ off my Greek bucket list. That's certainly something you can't do in Galicia...the water would be just too frigid! From the beach we could see a path of tiki torches. So picturesque! We sat on some boulders furthest from the screen to make a quick exit. More than the movie we were just interested in the set up. It was in English (fine for me) but with Greek subtitles (not so fine for my travel companion). Quite amazing that this tiny island has a cultural society that puts on fun activities. Good on you, Kimolos! 

 

Movie Night with the Kimolistes

3. Fancy Restaurant. From our home base, we could see a building on a hill with a wraparound porch beautifully lit at night. Turns out this is one of Kimolos' fancier restaurants. On our last night we treated ourselves to dinner there, switching things up from our usual spread of simple Greek tapas on our little patio. The ambiance of the place was pleasant, and the pasta was pretty good. This was our big ¨night on the town¨ in Kimolos.

Much about Milos

After Carnival there has been a lull in activities. A Lenten lull, if you will. While we had a weirdly hot taste of spring in early February, it's now back to rain, rain, rain. Cold rain. In the mountains it's cold enough to snow, but not here. And since I've had a lot of time on my hands indoors, I've been reminiscing about sunnier, hotter days. Time to finish up the recap of Greece last summer. Better late than never!

This is going to get long...

Cave in Milos

Entroido on Trial

It's curious. When you look at a map of Traditional Entroidos in Galicia, the vast majority are in the province of Ourense, near the border with Portugal or León. In that region they have Carnivals that are considered Festivals of National Interest, and Galician Interest, too. (Not sure what the parameters are to be declared so interesting.) Then there's the Entroido Ribeirao, which is in the province of Lugo, but right on the border with the province of Ourense, so that makes sense. Next we have the Xenerais de Ulla that I mentioned the other day. They're a conglomeration of essentially the same celebration throughout the center of Galicia. Aside from these two main focal points, there are a handful of traditional Entroidos that are scattered randomly across Galicia, each with their own special character. That is the case for the second Carnival I attended this year.

Val do Franco is a bucolic, green valley in Castro de Rei, Lugo. If I was impressed the other day by the party the residents put on in a parish of less than 600 people, I've really gotta hand it to the folks of Val do Franco. This festival combines the forces of three parishes, and for good reason. Their total tally of inhabitants is not even 250! But they put on quite the show, with a local traditional band of all ages, a DJ, Carnival customs, and a full-fledge orquesta. Wow! I'm sure that all cost them a pretty penny. 

The ¨Prosecution¨ Arrives

We got there at the start of the party, following the tune of a multigenerational band. They had bagpipers, tambourine players, and other percussionists. The most endearing thing was a special recital by the littlest members, who stumbled through their own little Muiñeira dance. So cute! And extra sweet, because the Galician countryside has a population problem. More specifically, an aging population problem. Galicia is home to a lot more elderly than youth, so it was cute to see that in this village of just a few hundred people, there were a dozen residents representing the next generation. 

Two fareleiras protecting Entroido

The Galician folk music was eventually switched out for a DJ spinning Latin beats. Just as things were getting heated up, it was time for the Trial of Entroido. Entroido, also known as a ¨meco,¨ (an effigy, in this case of Carnival personified) was paraded in. Reminded me of my first Entroido 10 years ago! Except back then, it was meant to be a specific person. Escorting the Meco were two fareleiras. These masked bailiffs protect the figure of Entroido on its journey to trial and burning afterwards (if Entroido is found guilty, which of course he always is). They are a character specific to the Val do Franco Carnival. The fareleiras wear white jumpsuits and each have a stick with a fluffy bag of flour attached to hit people. In addition to thwacking people who get too close to the Entroido effigy, I think they also went after people without costumes, which is quite typical in Carnival characters.  Following the Entroido and his fareleira posse was a quartet of the costumed ¨prosecution,¨ pulled in by a tractor.

A few hundred of us gathered around the big stage to witness Entroido's Trial be carried out by two adults and two children. They took turns reading couplets about local happenings over the past year. Someone kicked their husband out of the house, someone found love abroad, someone got pregnant out of wedlock. At first I thought they were just kind of making stuff up, but then someone near us in the crowd muttered, ¨I know who that's about.¨ Therefore, they must have been real current events. Afterwards, a round man very aptly dressed as an English-style judge declared Entroido guilty as charged. Burn him in effigy! So off they carried poor Entroido (again, just a replica of a person) and lit him on fire as the crowd looked on from a safe distance. They even blew him up with fireworks! 

Left: Entroido about to be set on fire
Right of Center: Fareleira in action!

After the fire died down, we turned our attention back to the tent where the DJ had started up again. A while later, they raffled off a bunch of gift baskets. Then it was time for the orquesta to play some lively tunes. Another Entroido in the books!

Bye bye, Entroido!

Countryside Carnival: Os Xenerais da Ulla

Apparently, apart from being on time, among my students I am also known for being a huge fan of Carnival. Guilty! A few weeks ago, when to make conversation I asked one student if she liked Carnival, she replied, ¨Not as much as you.¨ And another was surprised when I told her I still hadn't decided on a costume. So to make up for lost time (as I haven't truly celebrated since pre-COVID times), this year I'm joining in on not one but two Entroido festivities. After all, I have a reputation to uphold!

There are so many traditions and special characters throughout Galicia, and since Entroido/Carnival comes but once a year, I've decided no repeats! Every year requires a new Carnival location or else I'll never get to see them all. And on my quest for witnessing first hand all of Galicia's plethora of Carnival celebrations, this year I landed on Os Xenerais de Ulla, the Generals of Ulla. This colorful figure rides horseback in multiple towns and villages surrounding Galicia's capital Santiago de Compostela. On their website they have a calendar of all the places they will be, as they celebrate in different places all throughout the monthslong Carnival season. (You can also see some better pictures than I was able to take.)

Sunday we went for the ¨evening show¨ in Sergude. And they threw quite the party for a parish of less than 800 people. Apparently the morning session involved following the Xenerais to neighbors' yards and singing. I'm sure it would have been a fun and unique experience, but as three foreigners with no ¨in,¨ we decided to go to the less exclusive evening events. When we arrived, there were already other cars parking, but we saw little action. There was a huge tent set up with a bar and two small stages. One would clearly be for the late-night orquesta-- a Galician staple. (Although the word in English may conjure up images of dozens of string instruments seated around a conductor, in Galicia it's quite different. Here orquesta are showy bands that do cover versions of hits, performing in the smallest of villages.) Then the first band started playing and I realized that their stage was the hitch of a tractor! Que enxebre! We rocked to the traditional Galician tunes as more people started pouring into the tent area, seeking protection from the rain that had also started to pour.

After two hours of musical entertainment, the tent area was now packed with a few hundred people. The generals are coming, the generals are coming! First came the dancing band, wearing an array of costumes and playing mostly percussion. Leading the band was a young couple with elegant clothing who I assume to be the King and Queen of Carnival. Behind the band, about a dozen colorfully-clad ¨Generals¨ strode down the hill on their horses. They remained at the front of the tent, behind some metal barriers. It kind of seemed dangerous to us. Imagine one of the horses got freaked out for whatever reason. Stampede, anyone? Luckily that was not the case. Meanwhile the band paraded into the center of the crowd to play their songs. I know they changed the lyrics of some well-known songs to be fun or social commentary, but unfortunately, with all the hubbub I didn't catch much.

Finally, it was time for the Xenerais to do something. When we had arrived to the ten we noticed (and mistook for real) two life-size horses. I thought it was just for decoration. But as the ¨Atrancos¨ got under way, we realized they were being done while on the fake horses. The ¨Atrancos¨ are the closest thing to a rap battle you can find in Galicia. Traditionally they were invented on the spot, but now they are written down and recited with a very marked rhythm, which got in our heads for the rest of the night. The first to participate in the atrancos were kids, not even teenagers. One recites something to the other, brandishing a sword (obviously, they're generals!). The next replies, and they go back and forth for a minute. Again, it was pretty hard to make out what they were saying, but current events in the village seem to be the topic of choice. We heard a few of these pairs having their little spoken duels before we had to go.  Like Cinderella, we had to be home by midnight. So I'm not sure if there was more to the revelry or not. Perhaps only the children perform from the fake horses and then the adults perform from their real horses. But I don't know. That's why I would allow myself to repeat and go back one year, to be able to join the party all night long. Maybe I'd even sign up to ¨march¨ with the Xenerais' morning ¨army.¨

This afternoon I'll be headed to a different Entroido experience, so stay tuned!

Dolmens, and Altars, and Petroglyphs, Oh My!

Galicia has loads of ancient ruins, some of them well-preserved and cared for, others not so much. This weekend on a group hike accompanied by an archaeologist, we learned the stories behind some hidden pre-Roman monuments on the outskirts of Lugo. 

If you squint, you can see the dolmen

The first stop was a dolmen in a field. A mini-dolmen if you ask me. But of course, as the archaeologist explained, it was likely much taller than it appeared, still mostly buried underground. Dolmens are tombs, and she noted that in Galicia there are rarely any bones left in them because of the ground's acidity. Fun fact! But they are found all over Europe, so they know dolmens are for burial.

Next was a ¨roda,¨ an elevated circle in a clearing amongst pine trees. Honestly, if I had been hiking by myself I would not have thought it were millennia old. It just looks like a hilly clearing. But from the top of the ¨wall,¨ you can see it isn't natural, the circle even has a little opening which would have been an entrance. Our guide had worked on excavations here, and said that in the small portion of the circle that they had worked on, they only found pitchers and tools for grinding grains. Surrounding the circle they also discovered purposefully worked quartz, which would shine in the sunlight. They're not sure what this place was, but it reinforces the idea that Adai was a special place. A fellow hiker theorized that it was a place for congresses and politics, where they gathered from far and wide to decide on important matters. My slightly less formal theory is that it was a place for festivals and raves. Whatever it may have been used for, the archaeologist agreed that it was probably something that involved socializing among the numerous communities and tribes.

View from atop the ¨wall.¨
To the left you can see the dip which would have been the entrance

Our next stop was the Altar of Adai, a misnomer. It's actually a large, flat stone with holes carved into it, likely for beams to support a longhouse. It's one of the only known specimens in Europe. Assumedly there are more around, yet to be discovered.

¨Altar¨ of Adai

The last stop was a quick one to see some petroglyphs on a large boulder. There were several that were ¨crosses.¨ The circle was quite clear, with a cross inside it. Apparently they were from the Middle Ages. On the far side of the boulder were grooves likely for grinding grains. Milling was an important ritual ages ago.

Timeliness is Godliness

This past week, not one but two of my students brought up my punctuality, mystified. ¨You always arrive right on the dot!¨ Well, yeah, did you not expect me to? One of them even chalked it up to ¨British punctuality.¨ Uh, I'm American, remember? In my case, I do strive to be on time, and because of this I start classes at very random times rather than at -- o'clock and half past. My schedule includes classes starting at 5:40 or 6:20 because I know that that is how long I need to get there from my previous class.

Despite this recent ¨culture shock¨ by these students, as far as I am concerned after living in Spain/Galicia for a decade, the stereotype of Spanish people being tardy is inaccurate. It is worth pointing out that Galicia is a special corner of Spain, and does not usually bow to Spanish stereotypes. In fact, some people here have told me that ¨That's in the South,¨ referring to their perception of Andalusians' lack of timeliness. Here the few friends who have a reputation for being late are hassled by the rest of the group. So maybe the Northern regions are punctual and the rest of Spain is not.

But more than timeliness, the biggest cultural difference I have found here when it comes to time is how they measure it, especially in social situations. Time spent socializing is limitless. Like during my first few years when local friends would suggest ¨getting a drink¨ which implied being out til 1 or 2 AM. In my book, that was ¨going out,¨ but in theirs, it was a casual evening. Or when with teachers or a hiking group, we just always had to stop to get a coffee together before heading home. I'd just want to get home, but that's not how it was done. My most recent example is what I call ¨Marathon Hang-Outs.¨ We have people over for lunch, and naturally they stay for coffee. But now it's gotten to a point where they stay the whole afternoon and for dinner, too, maybe leaving around midnight or even later. Be it my introverted self talking, or be it my American nature, that to me is just too much time! I feel like Americans would want to get back to their places sooner than that. But such is life in Galicia, at least. When it comes to being with friends, no amount of time is too much.