For Scotlaaaand!

The last time I checked, I'm still in Galicia and not Scotland, but surely the Galicians are down with the Scots because they share a Celtic heritage. My roommate is a wee Scottish lass, thus last Saturday we celebrated Robert Burns Day. It's a patriotic day for the Scots, in honor of their most famous poet. So here in "Little Scotland" Stacey & Lauren prepared some traditional dishes for our friends to try. Meeps and tatties (carrots and mashed potatoes) with canned haggis sent direct from Scotland, all covered in a delectable mustard sauce. For dessert was homemade shortbread in a fruity, homemade whipped cream. And because it's Scottish, just about everything was "flavored" with whiskey. I admit I had my doubts about the tastiness of haggis, having sort of an idea of what it actually contains. Au contraire, everything was delicious!

Everyone decked out in red, black, and tartan!

To finish off a Scottish weekend, Lauren, Stacey, and  I watched Braveheart. Freedoooooom!! 

Guess it's time for an update. Things have been happening, but nothing tremendously out-of-the-ordinary. Lugo feels comfortable. This weekend I went shopping for "rebaixas" sales. We spent 8 hours in the mall. I was dragging by the end, but made it out alive, having spent only 21 euros on 3 items. Score!

Last week I hosted a bilingual game night. Hopefully everyone else had as much fun as I did, and we can make it a weekly tradition. There were 9 of us, about half Galician and half English-speakers. Looking up party games online produced some interesting results, including the egg game. Five people get eggs, and you tell them 4 are hard-boiled and 1 is raw. Then they have to crack it on their forehead one by one to see who got the raw egg. Ironically, only the Spaniards participated in this game. The joke is that they are all hard-boiled. Whoever goes last wins if (s)he is brave enough to crack it on his/her head. So wearing plastic bags as bibs was all for nothing. Hopefully they weren't too disappointed.

In addition, we played hide-n-seek. In my 2 bedroom piso. A classic, although obviously after one round we ran out of hiding spaces.

Aaaaaaaaand Gallego class is finally over. 8,75 final grade. Toma ya! Y eso que falté bastante jajaja.

Guess it's good to be back

To be honest, waking up in Lugo after spending 2 dazzling weeks in Donostia gave me kind of a bajón (the blues). Because Donostia is like Disney World. Except unlike Disney World, you can imagine yourself living there long-term and it being just as wonderful. Not only do I lack a "family" here in Lugo, but my best American friend is still out of town, and my flatmate is also out too. Yeah, I cherish my alone time, but it was getting to be more lonely than enjoyable.

But last night was a good time, because I did 2 things I haven't done since I was in America.
1. Play wii.
2. Drive a car.
With some of my Spanish friends we had dinner and then did Wii singing and dancing. Almost all of the songs were in Spanish, and  I only knew one of them (too pop for me, I guess), so I ended up doing one in English and one in Spanish of which I had no clue. Classic. On the way home, my friend randomly suggested I drive home. And he was serious. Automatic transmissions are really uncommon in Spain, but luckily for me he has one. Next step in adapting to España is learning to drive a stick-shift. :)

Today was my first day back at school. It was actually reassuring. First of all, to have obligations isn't so icky, especially since I only work one day this week. Secondly, all the teachers were in a good mood, despite vacation being over. Everyone was giving besos and saying "Feliz año," even the teachers I don't really talk to. A lot of them wondered "How did you get back?!" thinking I went home to the -50*C temperatures of eastern America. But alas, I came grudgingly from the warmer Donostia. Now that I'm back to "the usual" in Lugo, I guess I'm pretty glad. 

Urte berri on! New Year's in Donostia

Seeing the clock strike midnight on New Year's Eve tends to be a family affair in Spain. Maybe it's because they're used to eating dinner late with their families anyway, and partying all night with friends. Whatever the reason, I'm just glad I had a family to count down with in San Sebastián. The night started off by once again, caroling at my host family's door. They must've known to expect something, because they answered the door with cameras in hand. By 9:30 we were all settled for a family dinner of salmon, oysters, and what I shall term "crumpets," with plenty of champagne to start off the festivities.

We had a little extra time between dinner and midnight, so four of us played Parcheesi (I would've lost if we had finished) and Marga prepared the grapes for the magic moment. And by prepare, I mean sort out 12 grapes for each plate, and not remove the seeds. At 11:55, the seven of us huddled around the TV like I imagine most families were doing, and with the sound of every bell supposedly ate 1 grape. I say supposedly because Lila started laughing and couldn't finish; Amaya was making sure she wasn't choking; Luis was too busy taking photos; and I was surprised by the seeds and thus had a few grapes in my mouth when the chimes stopped. But they were all at least in the process of being eaten, so I consider it a success!

After Spaniards everywhere (I mean, in Spain) finished their grapes, the fireworks began. Not organized, community-sponsored fireworks, but random people from seemingly every building shot off some sort of firework. It was both impressive and nerve-wracking. Cool because there were fireworks, but alarming because there was no control whatsoever. In fact, the roof of a house in a nearby town/neighborhood Trintxerpe caught on fire probably due to fireworks. Article from El País

While other young Spaniards (including my bro and his girlfriend) continued the party in all-night events called cotilliones, I was in bed by 2 AM. Good decision for the new year.

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.