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.

24 fantastic hours (in Vigo)

Life is a dream, and in my dream I was sitting on the beach at the end of October, eating a giant burger in good company, still trying to process the fact that I had finally seen my favorite Spanish band in concert. 

This pic doesn't do it justice

So in my dreamy life, we went to Vigo, a coastal city about 2 hours away, for the concert on Saturday. En route we drove through the scenic Ribeira Sacra, which has vineyards lining the hillsides of the Río Miño. Last time we were there, it was December so it was all dead. Now that it's autumn, the leaves were lovely shades of green, orange, and red.

It says "AMA" --love!

The concert was at 10 PM. No openers, just pure Extremoduro. The place was packed, but we dared to move forward. Well, not the first few rows, but more than halfway up. As I told my friend, "So much smoke. So many people. So much excitement. I forget how to breathe." The concert finally started at 10:30, because fans were still coming in. They played straight til midnight, then had a 20 minute break, to return until 2 AM. That's THREE HOURS of concert! Holy Toledo!!! They played some of my favorites, but even with 3 hours they couldn't fit in some other classics. The ones I didn't know were likely from their newest album which I haven't listened to. Anyways, it was a magnificent experience, hearing the band, and singing along with +/-2000 other people. Afterwards, we ended up waiting 1.5 hours for the free buses back to the city. But it was worth the wait, because just before our bus came, a van with tinted windows stopped in front of about 30 fans. One guy went up to it and peeked in, and it was Extremoduro inside!! They waved/hit the window. La vida es sueño, ya te lo dije.

Sunday we woke up late and took burgers to the beach. Diego has been talking about this burger place since last year, and the result was good, huge, and cheap just as promised. It was a beautiful day, probably around 80* in the sun. The water was too cold to swim, but nice for dipping your toes in. The lack of a beach is really Lugo's main drawback. After a few hours on the beach it was time to head back home. But we left feeling that we sure did 24 hours the right way.

Islas Cíes in the background--a trip for another weekend

Taking advantage of global warming

The weather has been summery lately, thereby filling the terrazas and plazas until the sun goes down. Sunday Lauren and I took advantage of the sunshine on a 12 km hike going from a town in Asturias to another in Galicia. The "railroad route" took us through several tunnels. Unlit tunnels, might I add. We came unprepared, so Lauren downloaded a flashlight app to calm our fears. Thank you, modern technology! Nonetheless we did run hand-in-hand through the first tunnel, and sang songs/talked loudly through the rest. But the tunnels made it an experience! The rest was mostly flat walking with some wooded hills for a backdrop. Aside from being in nature, I enjoy hiking because of the camaraderie--hikers almost always greet other hikers. You know you've reached the town when passersby just look at you rather than saying "Hola!" In our destination town A Pontenova, we checked out huge furnaces used back in the mining days.

In school, most of my students are on strike again. So the few that actually come are getting some fun, personal English practice. For example in one class we played a board game and read horoscopes. In gym class there were only 2 girls, so when the teacher left for a minute, I suggested we try out the stilts. When the teacher came back and saw us having a gay old time, she decided to bring out the 18-inch stilts that you actually tape to your feet/calves. Only one student dared to do it, so I tried, too. I was pretty good at at,  and even managed to walk a short distance without holding on to someone. A new hidden talent?!

Then there is the youngest group that is obsessed with proving that I speak Spanish. A couple of students will stay back to observe me with teachers of other subjects, who I obviously speak in Spanish with. Then in class they yell (in Galician) "She speaks Spanish! She spoke Spanish yesterday, and with a good accent!" And I say "No, I only speak English." It took them a few minutes, but they finally made the connection that yes, I am replying to what they've said in Galician, so clearly I understand them. Also they never made the connection that when I explain a word in English, and then they confirm it in Spanish, I clearly know some Spanish translations. Haha, oh youth!