La Fiesta del Pajaro - More Than Just the Turkey

The Season is upon us and that has been particularly evident since Thanksgiving. I’d like to take this time to share with you the things for which I am thankful.

To our surprise, since the time we lectoras arrived at Cura Valera, the professors began to ask us what we were going to prepare for the “bird party” (fiesta del pajaro) as they have nicknamed Thanksgiving. They also began occasionally to mention just how wonderful was the food prepared and brought by the language assistants the year before. And they did this casually - you know, just to let us know that the standard was high and that we’d better not screw anything up. So on the night of November 25^th, far away from our homes and families in the United States, we celebrated Thanksgiving dinner with the Spaniards, who over a few years of hosting American English language assistants have come to embrace the tradition and love the food, though it is foreign to them. Try explaining sweet potato pie to a Spaniard. They probably will not understand how you expect to make dessert out of a vegetable and may even respond with some Spanish equivalent of “eeewwww.” But they’ll try anything, and when they tried my sweet potato pie – what a revelation! I am thankful to work with people who so enthusiastically saw to it that we gathered to recognize Thanksgiving Day.

Spain has turned out to be an ideal location for travel, full of fun people and good food. And yes, I admit, you might call that the honeymooner mentality. Although, strolling down my street one day to the house of a friend, I was hit with a feeling of being at home. Oh, man! I feel at home here! Not solely comfortable, but I actually have a sense of knowing and understanding this place. As we’ve been planning for our holidays, we lectoras have realized just how convenient it is to be in Europe because the traveling options are endless for a low price! I’ve certainly taken advantage of my long weekends and traveled about Andalucia. The last puente (long weekend) Margaret and I made a trip to Baeza, Cordoba, and stopped through Granada on the way home. In Cordoba, a pleasant surprise of a city for me, we enjoyed the Mosque Cathedral, the Roman bridge, the parks, the palace, the Juderia (the old Jewish neighborhood where we stayed), and of course, the food and nightlife. Still, as much diversion as any trip provides, a feeling arises inside me each time I see that colorful fountain approaching, signaling that we have arrived in Huercal-Overa. It is a sigh of comfort, like a big hug, a gladness that makes all my muscles relax and I know that I’m back home again. I am so thankful to live in Huercal-Overa, Spain.

Every Wednesday afternoon I tutor two sisters and their cousin in English. Following our lesson this week, I had the privilege of helping them put up and decorate their Christmas tree. Their mom is always so hospitable and tells me to stop by anytime to have a coffee and visit. I am even invited to have Christmas Eve dinner with them! I am thankful for my sweet students and their families. I am thankful for the opportunity to teach.

Now is the time for Christmas shopping, hat crocheting, Russian tea, and Christmas themed movies. I don’t think that’s necessarily the Spanish way, but that is how I feel about it. Not much has changed around here in regards to acknowledging the season. I have five days coming up in January in which I want to travel, but I’m a bit stuck in the decision making. Any suggestions? Oh, and BY the way, I’m thankful for YOU, readers, friends, and family! Thanks for being interested in my lifeJ and don’t forget to let me know about yours as well! Happy Holidays!

Autumn in Granada

Here we are in fall, Huercal-Overa-style! That means it’s getting super cold but the leaves aren’t changing. Consequently, my health has been on a roller coaster ride because my little immune system doesn’t know what to do with the cold cold nights and fairly hot days. I’m looking forward to when the temperatures level out. Nevertheless, oncoming cold weather somehow never fails to stir up a desire to be outdoors following a path toward somewhere in a hobbitesque manner. I’ve had outlets for such desires with the senderismo club on an excursion a couple of weeks ago, and with the natural science classes from Cura Valera on a field trip last Thursday.

Cura Valera, the school where I teach, has the advantage of a bilingual program where the kids learn all of their subjects in both English and Spanish. I get to work with the Primero Bachillerato class (16- and 17-year-olds), in their economics, physical education, natural science, and English classes. You’re probably saying to yourself “I bet those kids really know English!” Don’t be fooled. Some just get by without ever really learning very well, and on the other hand, some do want to learn and can speak and work very well in English. So there is one similarity between the American and Spanish school structure. I won’t bore you with a list, but these are some of the most curious differences I’ve observed. They don’t have school sports and therefore no mascots, but plentiful club sports make up for that. They don’t have a lunch hour because they eat lunch after school at 3 O’clock and it is disgracefully common for them to talk over the teacher without receiving discipline. Well, I take what I get. They are truly neat kids and I have enjoyed getting to know and teach them.

This weekend I made another escape, this time to Granada where it is really fall. Since the beginning of my Spanish language education, I read about the ingenious and beautiful Moorish structure in Southern Spain called the Alhambra. It was built over a period of about 400 years and was the last Moorish hold in Spain conquered by the Catholics. It is where King Ferdinand and Queen Isabel (Los Reyes Catolicos) lived. Having learned all of this (and more that I’m sure I’ve forgotten) over a period of 8 years, I felt this trip should be the peak of my Spanish experience. On Saturday the 20^th of November I made the visit with Luana and Margaret. We spent all day inside the magnificent Alhambra and afterward descended the street back into the city, making our way to one of the many Arabic-style teterías where we enjoyed a cozy cup of tea with Mediterranean style food. Granada is interesting for the evident Arabic influence that remains and the university presence which always inexplicably provides an artistic atmosphere. You don’t have to go to the university to know it. You just have to walk around and see all the young people, dressed either like metropolitan starving artists with ragged scarves and high-top tennis shoes or mountain people in their ski coats and hiking boots. Boy, I fell in love with the place. Hay que regresar!

Intercambio de tradiciones: Cumpleaños and Halloween

Out for a tour one fine Sunday afternoon, my friend Edu and I zipped down the highway on his moto through the hills and dessert surrounding Huercal-Overa. I started to tell him how lucky I felt to live here. He slowed down the motorcycle to ask “Why?” Typical Huercalense. “Because,” I said, “look at this nature! The mountains, desert, beach. For one thing, it is beautiful, and for another, you never run out of things to do.” This has become evident in the last couple of weeks. As Tiffany and I are preparing for the half-marathon in Barcelona on February 14, we’ve been discovering different paths and routes around the town. The dry river bed (called the rambla) is one of our favorites. During one run, we came across the Huercal spelunking/hiking (senderismo) club who were putting climbing holds into the wall of an old railroad bridge. As the name implies, this club goes hiking some weekends in the nearby mountains and occasionally descends into a cave or two. So we’ll be hanging with those guys in the future. Aside from senderismo, the athletic community in general is impressive with groups specifically for cycling, club teams of various sports for all ages, and a handful of people who run the big races regularly. Not bored yet, thank you very much.

To an American, Spanish birthday traditions may seem backwards at first glance. For example, in the United States when you go out with a group of friends on your birthday, everyone expects to bring you presents and buy you drinks and food and whatnot. But in Spain, the celebrated one is expected to buy drinks for invitees. No problem, though. Look at it this way: This is to symbolize, and in essence to re-enact, that on this particular day many years ago, you were a gift to the world. Ah, beautiful right? That is to say, my birthday in Spain was wonderfully spent first at work, then at home, and lastly with friends for whom I did buy some drinks, as would the Spanish woman I hope to become one day. While at dinner with my co-workers the following night, they generously provided me with a cake, poster, and flamenco accessories.

Alicante,Valencia, widely claimed to be feo feo (ugly) by its residents, is in fact a fantastic fun place and apparently the place to celebrate Halloween in Spain. In light of this Tiffany (who studied in Alicante in 2008), Margaret, and I made a journey North this weekend to the grand yet quaint Valencian city. Friday we enjoyed the nightlife, Saturday hiked the Moorish castle, Sunday soaked up the beach, and then it was back to home sweet home Huercal-Overa for Halloween night. This American tradition has by no means penetrated the boundaries of Spain, but has seeped in a little bit. Knowing this and eager to share this tidbit of my culture, I construed a costume at the last minute on Sunday night and went out to show it off. I endured a few stares until some Spaniards with actually scary costumes arrived and showed me up. It’s wonderful to be here!

Huercalense boredom?

“If you all need anything, you just let me know,” said my friend Mamadou to me in Spanish, our common language. He knew somehow that we would be needing something soon because he knows what it is like to be an extranjero (foreigner). Having arrived from Senegal four years ago, he became fluent in Spanish in only four months, transitioning from Wolof, his native tongue, and French, the lingua-franca in Senegal. Not only did he transition quickly linguistically, but he has made and does make a true effort to integrate into the culture here. If you walk down the street with Mamadou, you’ll soon discover that it’s rare to come across a soul who he doesn’t know. His story is quite an exception to the norm, however, so Tiffany, Margaret, and I are grateful that we’ve been adopted by this kind young man, a willing guide to cultural integration.

Immigration here is common, as I have realized, because in this tiny place I have met individuals from Egypt, Senegal, Italy, Lithuania, Ecuador, Peru, Argentina, Brazil, and of course Colombia. Every time I meet someone, the very first thing they want to know is, “Why are you in Huercal?” When I discover a new acquaintance is also an extranjero, I want to know the same thing. It’s as if to say, “Wait a second, how is it that you came from a really cool place in the world to this pea-sized town? Do you like being bored? Or is it for the money?” The response is usually the latter, as you might guess.

Though I have heard much about Huercalense boredom, I have yet to experience it for myself. Festivals have been going on every week since we arrived, if not in Huercal-Overa then in some nearby pueblo. I’ve been told this is not going to last, but for the moment we are in the middle a six day fury of non-stop partying which is the Huercal-Overa Feria. This festival, which attracts people from nearby cities as well as natives, includes rides for the kids, dancing and partying for anyone between adolescent and elderly, and delicious Spanish-style carnival food for everyone. You can come right as siesta begins at 3 in the afternoon and have drinks and tapas with friends. Dancing usually starts right around 6 and then continues until 6 the next morning! Fortunately, this has provided a lot of great opportunities to hang out with my co-workers this week. Oddly, I’ve also run into a few of my students in the same places. It seems not to faze the professors, though. Everyone loves the fiesta!

comida, cafe con leche, y caracol

I’m pretty sure I was made for the Spanish horario– the Spanish daily routine. The day starts around 8:00. We eat toast or fresh bread for breakfast with marmalade or a tomato paste that’s made with salt, vinegar, and olive oil. The marmalade sitting on my shelf of the refrigerator at the moment is ciruela amarillo – yellow plumb. This is my favorite fruit in Spain and ever in the world. I eat it in any form possible: whole, sliced, marmalade on toast, in yogurt, in pastry, on pastry, in hand, on hand, yummmm ciruela! Breakfast is, as it should be, accompanied by coffee, and Oh how I do enjoy a café con leche! Though I’ve taken a liking to café bon bon which is espresso largo mixed with sweetened condensed milk. Around 9:00, everyone is at work or at school and almost all the shops have opened. At 12:00, we’re all a little hungry of course so we have some more coffee and eat a montadito (a little sandwich) with jamón (ham) or eggs. Here let me just say that these people put eggs on anything at any time of the day. This is another reason we get along so well. The school day is done by 14:30 and we all go home to have a generous meal with the family, after which one will most likely have an inkling to go to sleep for a bit. This is convenient, because between the hours of 15:00 and 18:00 nothing is open (except for the shops owned by Brits who are NOT Spanish and don’t you forget it!) and nobody is out, so you might as well take the siesta to descansarse (sleep). Once siesta is over, we have another coffee and go out to meet friends. The place comes alive again and you’ll find people meeting for drinks from now until about midnight when it’s supper time. Dinner is small but still an event. The best part is that this doesn’t just happen on the weekends. People love to go out and enjoy themselves on any day of the week.

Did I mention how much I love café con leche? Little did I know there’s a plethora of coffee options including café bon bon, café corto, café solo, café Americano, and café largo. I know this because Osbaldo told me. In fact, I’ve been learning something new about food everyday lately. My Colombian padre, as I like to think of him, absolutely adores food. A former pastelerie chef, he loves baking, boiling, mixing, chopping, grilling, mashing, stewing, frying, and simmering just about anything. Not only that, but once we’ve all sat down together to have an extravagant comida, after a few minutes he’s already describing another apparently amazing dish that he knows how to make. I say apparently amazing, because the man’s eyes truly sparkle when he describes food. “A little bit of salt … a little bit a berenjila … olive oil … lemon juice … and it’s perfect,” he makes sure to pause after each bit of direction (given in Spanish) just so we can all imagine the different flavors he’s bringing into the picture.

Every once in a while Osbaldo goes to the nearby countryside to gather a supply of fresh fruit, nuts, and vegetables. From such trips, he’s brought back squash, figs, acelga (a type of leaf related to spinach that’s delicious in soup), and almonds. I had the opportunity of accompanying him on a countryside trip one afternoon along with Mari Elisa and Carolina. We gathered almonds and found caracoles (snails). One day, one of these little boogers hitch-hiked home on an acelga leaf. When the family discovered him, they were so delighted exclaiming, “Oh, ¡qué bonito!” – “how cute!” After that, he was promptly put into the refrigerator and cooked the next day.

Here I am!

After a whirl-wind week of orientation in Sevilla, I made the long journey through the lovely Southern region of Spain to land in Andalucia Oriental in the pueblito of Huercal-Overa, Almeria. In a week and a half, I have encountered an Evangelical church to attend, met almost all of my fellow professors (I believe), and por fin found a place to live! Upon my first visit to the local church, I became acquainted with a Colombian couple, Mari Elisa and Osbaldo, and their daughters, Katharine and Carolina, who happen to live in an apartment right above the church. Having two extra bedrooms and learning that I was in search of a place to live, they offered that I rent one of the rooms. So here I sit in my new living room with my new Colombian family, who are currently watching Spanish nature shows as I write this very blog. It’s been a fun cultural learning experience so far. While experiencing the surrounding Spanish culture, I’m also experiencing Colombian culture through my housemates by sharing meals with them and passing the days together until I begin my job on October 1^st.

I don’t remember exactly requesting CIEE to place me in a tiny town but I have certainly been surprised by how much I enjoy the smallness of it. I adore the fact that I see my grocer at football games, the hardware store clerk at the same café in the morning, and that if I want, I can join my boss at the same rooftop restaurant everyday at noon to have aperitivos because I know that’s exactly where she’ll be. My fellow Americanas and I (there are three of us in Huercal) have gone out some nights and made some new acquaintances and encountered them the very next day in the street. It’s delightfully “chiquitino” - or super, super small.