Txotx!!*

There are about to be a bunch of posts in a row because it's the holiday season, and I've been doing stuff worth writing about.

This year thanks to my anaia adoptivo (host brother), I feel that I got the authentic Santo Tomas experience. The festival is celebrated in Donostia and other Basque towns the December 21st. Its roots are the baserritarrak (Basque farmers) coming to town on this day to sell animals and goods. Now it has morphed into a day of sidra and txistorra for all citizens wanting to pay homage to those traditional Basques.

First of all, the weather was wonderful, nothing like the late December you might imagine. We went to the center around noon to check out the herri kirolak (country sports) which included a group of men dragging a giant boulder. So Basque. Unfortunately we didn't see any aizkolari, which is my favorite herri kirola where they chop wood (see this entry from 2012).Then we began the fundamental Santo Tomas activity: consuming txistorra sandwiches and a bottle of sidra. Traditionally on this day txistorra, a sausage I prefer to chorizo, is eaten on a corn tortilla called talo. However, there were much more txistorra stands than talo stands, probably since making talo is more time-consuming and requires some skill. Therefore the lines were immense and we opted for eating our txistorra on regular bread.

Then we headed  to a less central plaza to hang out with the cuadrilla of my bro.  Most of them were dressed in the typical outfits of the Basque Celebration: a loose black overshirt, a blue and white plaid handkerchief around the neck, and a black beret. (Cuadrillas are an interesting  cultural difference I often forget about until I'm on the outside. Groups of friends stay together from very young until old age.) Anyways, we spent probably 5 hours drinking sidra in the sunny part of the plaza. Nearby they were playing club music in euskera, which actually exists. Also someone was renting out little cabezudos, so every once in a while you'd see a kid running around with an old man's head. Hilarious. There was even a Galicia stand selling octopus and Galician wines. Represent!

Get behind me, Satan hahaha

After so long, part of the group broke off to play pelota vasca and we moved to the Parte Vieja which was packed. There was barely room on the streets for people to push in one direction--bars overflowed and people partied in the streets. Then my bro had to go to work, what a pity!

I would've stayed on with his amigos who were very nice to me, the quiet foreigner. But when I went back to look for them, it was like searching for someone in a where's waldo convention due to everyone wearing the Basque outfit. Madre mía!  Nevertheless, since Santo Tomas is a day festival, I didn't feel so bad returning home before Spanish dinnertime.  Besides, I had sleep debt from the night before and the night on the train.

Lastly, thumbs up to San Sebastian for promoting reusable cups. I'd say the streets were much cleaner because of it. Also I believe they were giving 1 euro for every empty bottle of sidra collected. I like the way they think.

* txotx is what Basques say when they realize cups are empty and they're about to pour more. Needless to say, with such a big group it was yelled often

Another International Thanksgiving

Once again Lauren and I hosted a Thanksgiving dinner, except this year it was even more international. We had representatives from Spain, England, Brazil, Italy, and Angola.

THANKS TO:
Lauren for baking pumpkin pie, corn bread, and a type of apple strudel. Yum! This made the meal a legitimate Thanksgiving. And she majorly helped with the clean-up, knowing how I detest doing dishes.

Diego for seasoning one set of chicken thighs.  A few minutes before putting the chickens in, I asked Diego, "So...what do we put on it?" He found a recipe and whipped up some dressing. And then at 9:20 when the gas tank went out before we had boiled the potatoes, he made 2 trips to the gas station to get more gas. Diego saves the day!

Alex for "teasing" the chicken. I always confuse the words vacilar (to tease) with vaciar (to empty). As you can imagine, I asked him to taunt the chicken. Once I corrected myself, he made fun of me for being "preppy" and then he realized the chicken came empty. Lucky break. I put the mushy stuffing in the bird myself --so much for being preppy!

The rest of our friends who came with desserts, wine, and good spirits. We ate by 10:30, and since dinner here is usually a smaller meal, everyone was thoroughly stuffed. Not to mention desserts (my new favorite is the Brazilian brigadeiros) Success! I was proud of myself for preparing the mashed potatoes, stuffing, and corn myself. Ok, frozen corn is not that difficult. But I'm starting to cook for people. Lauren and I are getting pretty good at hosting Thanksgiving...maybe next year we'll charge to get in. ;)

The Spain of Yore

Sometimes, despite the fact that everyone around me is speaking Spanish or Galician and has a certain European flair, I forget where I am. Probably because at this rate, Spanish life is the norm for me. But the other day as I was watching the Spain-Germany friendly (we lost...I don't wanna talk about it) at a bar, I got distracted observing the waiter delicately slice jamón off the cured pig leg. A few years ago I probably would've been disgusted. But now hanging pig legs are a common sight, although I don't always get to see them being sliced in action. Good ol' life in España.

And since Lugo is by now just so "homey," I signed up for a craft course. Not only do I miss crafting at home, but it was a chance to practice my Spanish outside school/my apartment without it being an actual "Spanish class." It turned out to be an excellent decision firstly, because I love upcycling (the topic) and we made 3 projects which I can remake again and again. My favorite to make was the helix vase made out of rolled up magazines, because the weaving process was addictive. I also really liked the finish product of a candy dish made of newspapers. You would never know that it was made of just glue and newspapers!

Secondly the class was a success because of the women there. There were just two other "students" plus the teacher. All middle-aged women who were very nice to me. One insisted that I didn't have an accent, and they referred to me as "la chica," not as "the foreigner." At the end of the 4 day course, we arranged to go out for wine. Since I hadn't really explored the neighborhood the class was in, they wanted to show me the best place for tapas. At first the evening was uncomfortably quiet, but once we found a good topic, I was surprised by their stories of growing up in a Galician pueblo.

Although these women are as old as my parents, their stories seemed even more antiquated than those of my grandpa! The 1960s in rural Spain was similar to the 1920s in urban America. They said most of their food was homemade or homegrown, and for things such as sugar and flour, they basically traded what extra products they had such as eggs or crops. One woman remembered the day that electricity was installed in their house--it was such a novelty! Before that they used gas for lights, and town would be completely dark after a certain hour. So they walked home for miles with only the stars to light their way, crossing through woods and bridges in the dark. On the one hand that sounds idyllic, but on the other hand scary! Obviously they didn't even have a radio for the longest time, not to mention a television. And Lugo/Galicia was even more poorly connected back then. Barely anyone had a car, so they would walk an hour just to catch a bus to a big city. Or to get to Madrid...12 hours. But let's be realistic, now on a bus it takes you 9--not too much improvement there. Their tales also included stories of poverty, but they said they didn't notice because everyone was on the same level. Nobody had electricity, it's not like it was reserved for the rich people in the village. One woman recalled saving up to buy 4 walnuts and figs--one for each member of her family. And that they each had one was such a treat. She also remembered how she and her brother cried when the pig they were going to kill within 3 days died on its own, meaning they wouldn't be able to eat meat for months, because that pig was their one chance. Another said how all winter long they would have the chestnuts they had collected with milk for dinner every night. Hard to believe that all this happened in the second half of the 1900s, in a country we consider "developed." Evidently life during Franco's dictatorship wasn't as swell as he wanted people to believe.

Feasting Season

My director wasn't lying when he said the pulpada kicks off feasting season around here. Since then I've been dining with groups more often than usual, which of course is no problem. To paraphrase Bruce Springsteen, "Don't make no difference what nobody says/ Ain't nobody like to [eat] alone."

For starters, the top 10 tapas from Lugo's September competition were available again last weekend. So in addition to the two I tried during the contest, last Thursday we had a fun-looking one served in a halved Estrella Galicia (beer) bottle, and a little hamburger. Also during the week my roommates' group of friends came over for dinner. But apparently it doesn't even count as our "Cena de bienvenda." Typical Spanish: we started at 11 and ended at 1 AM...on a school night!

Then last weekend was a birthday dinner for a friend. I was stuffed before the main plate even came out. I whispered to my friend, "Are they still bringing the meat out? I'm full, can't I just cancel it?" Too late. I didn't realize there were going to be so many appetizers--bread, tortilla, fish on shells-- on top of the giant steak with fries. Oops. I had to refuse dessert, sadly. Next time I'll be sure to fast a few hours beforehand. It's all the fault of the free pintxo and tapa we got with our pre-dinner drinks!

Ok, some had labels

Last week was also Magosto at school, which means chourizada (chorizo meal) for the profes. Olé! Chorizo is starting to grow on me. [Help! Get it off!] For a moment the profes almost had a meltdown because they forgot to order bread. But how will the Galicians eat without bread?! It arrived in time for dessert, basically. Pan y vino. Because the red wine got finished fast, they pulled out mysterious and unlabeled alcohol to ease the digestion. Then we went out for the kids' festivities. There were plenty of roasted chestnuts (no me gustan) and some cakes baked by students. There were traditional games and dancing. One of my students pulled me out to dance. I excused my poor skills by saying "I'm not Spanish! I can't dance!"

Let us not forget, American Thanksgiving is right around the corner, which will be followed by another birthday dinner and the "inauguration" of our piso. Ya era hora!

Working Hard or Hardly Working

The past two days at school have made me conclude the latter. Too many fun experiences to be had outside of the classroom (but around school, I mean). I will add that all the activities took place during a free period, it's not like I shirk my duties. ;)

The other day for example, there was an assembly with 3 players from Lugo's basketball team, Breogan. The school director introduced me to them to chat for a bit, since they all speak English. [See what happens when you speak English, kids? You get to talk to basketball players!] One was from the USA, another from the Netherlands, and one from Lithuania. Two of them spoke Spanish so they could answer the kids' questions, but I was disappointed the students didn't even attempt to ask in English for the player who didn't understand Spanish. C'mon, guys! En fin, I'm sure they enjoyed the assembly more than just as an excuse to miss class.

Tuesday, in addition to Magosto celebrations (here), I accompanied one class to the local distillery. A class of 14-year-olds in a distillery--is that even legal? This was their second trip there, since the first time the machines weren't running. The place is within walking distance, and is the only "industry" in the town. While the students were watching the machines, one of the workers tried to explain part of the process to me. I didn't catch much, but did see the big pit where they have the scraps of grape skins from red wine that I think they use to make other alcohols. I didn't really get that, since it was liquor distillery, not winery. Anyways, at the end of our short tour, I was offered a sample. Woohoo! The girls freaked out and wanted to try it too, but they're too young so "ha-ha". To conclude, that was certainly an unexpected fieldtrip for high schoolers.

Bicultural Autumn: Pulpada and Halloween

In Lugo, the month of October is associated with the festival of San Froilán and feasting on pulpo, so once again this year I joined the teachers for a pulpada (octopus dinner). This year it wasn't in a caseta, but a regular restaurant which also had other groups celebrating that night. The "entrées" before the pulpo were delicious, perhaps even more so because I've been eating a lot of rice-and-tuna and plain pasta lately. There was tortilla de patata, croquetas, stuffed mushrooms (I don't even like mushrooms, but it tasted like a veggie pizza), and squid. Dinner was accompanied by red wine, and when I asked for some water after starting the pulpo, the teachers flat out denied me! They claimed that the pulpo would feed on it and then grow inside of me. Or more reasonably, they insisted combining water and pulpo caused indigestion. For dessert I could barely finish the homemade and very orange carrot cake, and a glass of sweet Crema de Orujo to help the digestion.

After the dinner, which ended around 1 AM, the majority decided to "go have a coffee". We headed towards the center, because that was the closest place with places open. Then the director asked me where we should go! I was tickled when they actually followed my advice and we went to a place I frequent. It was also a good decision because there's an upstairs where you can sit in a big group and everyone can talk to each other, unlike at the long tables of the pulpo dinner. I had a swell time, probably because I know the teachers better this year. It was fun to joke around with them and just listen to their banter with old friends.

As for the American holiday, in my classes we talked about haunted mental institutions for the oldest students and basic Halloween traditions and vocabulary for the youngest. I'm always pleased when they laugh at me acting out vocabulary, because hopefully the definition will then stick with them as they imagine my maniacal face saying "mentally unstable = crazy" haha. Some of the older students also celebrated by making a haunted classroom. I went in arm-in-arm with the English teacher who is also a good friend. It was pitch black, and pretty good, but I couldn't stop laughing because she kept screaming every time a kid grabbed at her. I was reminded of this clip from Ellen "Stop it! Just STOP IT!" I was impressed at their effort, because they don't seem to dedicate themselves to most things. One of the younger students came out completely acojonado (freaked out) and later threw up in class! Poor kid!

At my apartment we had a small Halloween party and amused ourselves in typical Halloween ways-- a mummy-making race and bobbing for apples. When we went out afterwards, not too many people were dressed up in the streets. Some had dressed up the night before Halloween. In Spain, those who do celebrate with costumes go for scary. The general/funny costumes are reserved for Carnival.