9 Months

When I began this blog I purposely withheld a lot of my opinions about Spanish people and their culture, knowing that in all likelihood my opinions would change over time. Now I have lived in Spain for 9 months. I have a much better perspective now that I have travelled and explored, and I can honestly say I have come to love this country and its inhabitants. However, this was not so in the early months of my adventure.

My initial impression of Spain was utter repulsion. The people are messy; they throw their McDonalds wrappers on the ground despite the trash cans on every corner, they noisily spit their sunflower seed shells as they walk, the men spit constantly, hawking and coughing, indoors and out. I have been spit on three times--twice by accident, I think, and once on purpose by a show-off teen. I've seen fathers teaching their children to pee on public buildings. I've seen a man cover one nostril and expel the contents of the other on the street. NOBODY cleans up after their dogs. The people seem rude. Those walking on the sidewalk do not budge to make way for anyone and I am often elbowed, pushed, shouldered out of the way and into a street full of incoming cars. The children know no respect and shove and scream. The men can be exceptionally crude and lewd to a lady walking alone. Cigarettes litter the streets and people smoke everywhere despite all the emphysema coughing. And forget covering the nose while sneezing! The people are loud. Conversations are shouting matches and everyone interrupts everyone else, speaking all at once and fighting for volume. They love the horns in their cars and use them dozens of times a day, sometimes for minutes at a time! They stare. They catcall. The weather is unpredictable and often depressing. The residents sometimes smell BAD.

When I first arrived the smells sickened me. The scent of body odor on the bus or the metro, the smell of sewage, the smell of frying pork fat, of dog poo baking on the sidewalk, of cigarettes and fried sardines...overwhelmed me. I never realized how clean and sterile the USA really is until I lived and breathed these scents.

I am used to all this now. I don't notice the cigarettes much, or the horns, or the volume, the sunflower seeds, the staring. I can tolerate the interrupting and the terribly behaved children and the catcalls. I've adjusted to the scents and now find it natural, real, proof that we are living (though I have never and will never learn to spit in the street).

I find myself in love with this country now. The land is beautiful, however unforgiving, the history is rich, the people love to laugh. The people enjoy, as they say.

I have met some incredible people. My student Alfonso taught me to pay attention to "the smell of the flowers burning in the sun." Rodrigo brought me special Spanish desserts to celebrate different holidays. Everyone is always eager to help, offering advice, informing me about Spain, making destination recommendations, lending me books, kindly critiquing my Spanish. I teach Sosa, a man from Nigeria who immigrated to Spain for a better life and to send money home to his family so that his siblings may get the education he never did (Craig and I are teaching him to read and write in English). I've taught business men, strong young female executives, teenagers, newly engaged couples, lawyers, pharmacists, biologists, university students, engineers, accountants, teachers, literature lovers, pilots; each one interested and engaged me, taught me something, modified my opinion of people in Spain, helped make my experience intriguing and special. And that is just my students...never mind my FRIENDS!!!

I find myself now armed with a better global perspective, more open, more calm. I have been living in a socialized nation and know firsthand how it works, and I can juxtapose it with my capitalist homeland to better formulate my beliefs and help find solutions for the future. I have witnessed the damage of this "crisis" in a different way, living in the country with the highest unemployment rate in the western world--nearly 18%. I can see the impact of the American media on kids and teens across an ocean.

When I was new in Spain I wasn't shocked by the fact that I was stereotyped as a stupid, McDonalds loving American, but I was offended by the perpetuation of these stereotypes by loud, stupid American tourists and drunken exchange students. I have learned to take pride in my nationality despite this in order to break these expectations. I feel that if I can break this stereotype in the mind of one person, I am making a difference.

I am homesick for Spain, and I have yet to leave.

Now I am saying goodbye to my students and embarking on a new journey. A lot of the goodbyes are casual, easy, but with a lot of my students I have spent a lot of one on one time. I know their childrens' names and what subjects the kids struggle with in school. I know what makes my students nervous about work and English, I know what allergies they have, what sports they practice on the weekends, their pet peeves. I know their religious beliefs and what they upbringing was like. I know whose brother is divorcing, whose boss is a jerk, whose child is in the hospital. I have spent nearly 100 hours alone with each of these students and we have become something like friends. I've had to say goodbye to my darling 13 year old private student over her tear-filled Coca-Cola, who finally passed an English exam after endless hours of assisted study.

But goodbye is necessary. This week, Craig and I will be travelling to Saint Jean Pied du Port, France. Here we will begin a 780 km hike on the Camino de Santiago Compostela, the way of Saint James, the ancient pilgrimage route. We will be walking an average of 30 km per day, carrying our clothes and sleeping bags on our backs, traversing the French/Spanish Pyrenees mountains, the plateau plains of Castilla y Leon, and the rainy rolling green hills of Galicia, among 780 km of other Spanish country side. http://www.caminodesantiago.me.uk/camino-frances/

I will be doing my best to occasionally find a computer to update!

Burgos, Spain

Last weekend we travelled to Burgos, Spain, with our native Burgos friend Oscar. Normally when we travel we are on our own or accompanied by other ignorant tourists, so it was a lovely gift to have a local on our side. We were shown the best restaurants, told the best tapas to order, and made very funny friends.

The food is definitely worth mentioning. The best was a tapa called cojonudo...this isn't a name you want to throw around, as it actually means "to go in the nude." However, it is a slang word for, essentially, "AWESOME!" when describing food. And that is what this tapa was. They begin with a piece of bread and top it with a tiny, perfectly fried quail (or partridge?) egg. They decorate this with a red pepper slice, and add chorizo (or, if it is a cojonudA, they add morcillA). Really, this isn't my ideal dish. I have to admit that I internally cringed when Oscar brought it to the table, but...YUM!!! I learned to stop prejudging pretty quickly after the next tapa, tigre (tiger), which was a sort of pulverized mussel mixed with bechamel sauce, stuffed back into the shell and fried. It was so good I cleaned that mussel shell of every bit of fried pink mush clinging to it. YUM! Also worth mentioning is the morcilla itself (blood sausage) for which Burgos is famous for. I eat morcilla in tiny doses, but Craig ate every morcilla in sight! I also tried hard to eat a fois tapa with mango and burnt sugar, but while I desperately wanted to discover I loved it, liver just isn't my thing. Craig ate mine, of course.


Burgos was also special for me because it is part of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela, of which I will discuss further later. We got to see many pilgrims headed toward the west of Spain, tired and dirty but extremely happy. Here are Craig and Oscar posed with the pilgrim statue in front of the cathedral. (I forgot to mention that Craig no longer has hair!)

The cathedral was amazing. Burgos' cathedral is the third largest in Spain (after Sevilla's and Toledo's) and is INCREDIBLE. It is of gothic design but allows in a lot of natural light, often bright with stained glass colors.


The best part about Burgos? It was chilly! I actually walked around in my winter coat. Native Burgos residents snickered at me, but they are used to -15 degree (C) winters, so I felt secure in my down feather warmth.

A Better View

The Alcazar of Segovia, courtesy of Flickr.com (this shot is taken from the other side, and on a day with more light!)

Segovia, Spain

What a MAGNIFICENT city!!! I am simply in love with this antiquated and welcoming place. Segovia is located in the Castilla y Leon region of Spain, north of Madrid. This means the weather is slightly cooler (helped by the cloud coverage the day of our visit)and is considered a northern city despite its close vicinity to Madrid. After an easy 2 hour bus trip, Craig and I walked up the main drag only to be stunned by the Roman aqueduct.

This FIRST CENTURY monument remains in immaculate condition. It was originally built to bring water from the closest river--over 18 km away! Honestly, (coming from a girl who has a difficult time grasping architecture)...it is a marvel! I wish my photos could do it justice, but it simply isn't possible.


Next we sat in the Plaza Mayor in front of the intricately designed cathedral, La Dama de las Catedrales Espanoles (The Dame of the Spanish Cathedrals).

Here we feasted on cochinillo, Segovia's specialty dish. Cochinillo can be translated to "roast suckling pig." It really is a fatty, milk-fed, very very young baby pig, roasted whole and cut with a plate before the guests to demonstrate the tender texture of the meat. I was served a leg (with a tiny hoof and hair on the skin!) and Craig, lucky boy, got the head. Eyes, ears, and brains included, no extra charge.



It was very delicious.

Next we made our way through the winding ancient streets to the Alcazar, or Palace, of Segovia. This extravagant castle has been an inspiration to artists across the world, including Walt Disney. The original architecture, including the bright blue spires, was of Arab design, though Alfonso VI's troops conquered it in the 11th century and transformed it from a fort to a holiday retreat for the kings to follow. We were able to tour the inside and found it to be rich with art, stained glass, and eccentric Moorish ceilings.



We stopped into an old restaurant for a postre Segoviana. We ordered leche frita on the recommendation of one of my students. This translates directly to "fried milk" and tastes like a sort of hot flan. They mix milk with flour, sugar, perhaps a little cinnamon, fry it, and flambe it with whiskey. YUM!

We ended the day with a drink and vinegar-soaked cucumbers on a terrace in front of the aqueduct, watching the artists paint the view and the tiny abuelas dance to traditional music performed by live musicians.

Cuenca, Spain

Last week Craig and I took a day trip with our friends Sara and Jesus. Aside from remembering that I can no longer handle car rides after 9 months without spending any significant time in cars, the trip was flawless and my nausea was soon overcome. Cuenca is a really interesting and beautiful place. The historic city is positioned on a hilltop, providing some of the best views possible of the surrounding Castilla-La Mancha region. Castilla-La Mancha is best described as HOT. Beautiful, rich in agriculture, with rolling fields of wheat and windmills. And hot. Castilla-La Mancha means scar, or mark, and it was once considered a flaw in Spain's interesting landscape. But its arid climate and healthy soil makes it perfect for growing vegetables, and supplies most of Spain with homegrown products.

We walked the winding streets of Cuenca taking pictures and chatting about the surroundings. Looking down from a high point, you could see the winding green river with its sandy beach, peoples backyards with their perfect rows of tomato plants, onions, and grapevines, all irrigated by creeks.

We went for lunch in a small restaurant on a side street and we happily ate gazpacho, ensalada, an interesting seafood and rice stew with mussels, clams, shrimp, and tomato. We had brocheta de carne, or, in other words, beef on a stick and salad with artichoke hearts. Coffee.

After, we went to take a look at Cuenca's famous "Hanging Houses." These are houses built on the edge of the cliffs, with floating balconies actually extending out over the edge. At one time there were many of these houses, but only a few remain, housing a museum and a restaurant. We walked out on Saint Peter's bridge, which connected the two sides of a deep gorge, to get a better look.

While we were in Cuenca the thermometers read 40 degrees Celsius.

Tortilla de Patatas; the Spanish Omelet

Recently my flatmate, Isabel (aka Isa pronounced EEsa)from Salamanca, Spain, was nice enough to teach me how to prepare an authentic Spanish Omelet. I remember when I was first introduced to tortilla, I was skeptical, as someone who is not an omelet fan at all. I should not have worried. Tortilla de patatas in undoubtedly the greatest gastronomical treasure I have come upon in Spain and I LOVE IT!!!!! Honestly while she was teaching me, Isa did most of the work...I was a little chicken about flipping over a pan of hot oil and egg. But I can proudly say I have made it on my own since then and it got an A+ from my Spanish friends.

Try it. It is delicious.

Ingredients for a Simple Spanish Omelet with Potato and Onion

* 4 Eggs, very well beaten
* 3 Medium-sized Golden Potatoes, peeled and sliced very thinly
* 1 Small Yellow Onion, finely diced
* 3-4 Large Pinches of Salt
* An Abundance of Quality Spanish Extra Virgin Olive Oil (about 1 cup)


Essential Tools

The size of the pan used for tortilla de patatas should match the ratio of ingredients should the cook choose to double the recipe. For this particular recipe, an 8 inch pan should produce an inch thick tortilla, though some variation is acceptable as different people have different preferences for thickness and texture. A colander or slotted spoon is also necessary, as well as a clean, large plate and a butter knife.

Spanish Tortilla de Patatas Preparation


1. Heat oil on high on stove top. When hot, lower the heat setting to medium. Fry potatoes and onions until potatoes are soft and golden, stirring occasionally to keep from sticking. If the potatoes seem to be cooking too fast and browning, immediately reduce heat.
2. Using a slotted spoon, remove potatoes and onions and discard oil, leaving a small amount in pan. Mix potatoes and onions with beaten eggs, add salt, and pour the mixture into the pan and spread it evenly. Cook on medium heat.
3. Using a butter knife, separate the edges of the tortilla from the pan occasionally, and shake from time to time to keep the omelette from sticking. When the outside edges of the tortilla seem solid, cover the pan with a plate (note: the plate should exceed the diameter of the pan!). Using extreme caution to avoid very hot ingredients, flip the pan while holding the plate in place. Once it is on the plate, slide the tortilla off the plate and back into the pan, raw side down.
4. Cooking time varies depending on preference. Some people prefer the tortilla done throughout, while others prefer a soft center. To be safe, both sides should be golden brown.
5. Flip the tortilla onto the plate once more and allow to cool slightly before serving. Cut into wedges or squares, and enjoy!



Generally, it is served as tapa. It is usually served cold, occasionally with a slice of jamon or drizzle of ali-oli sauce and a piece of bread.

Spring?

In May the trees finally started to show fresh leaves, the plaza's rosebushes began to bud, and I finally FINALLY retired my winter coat, long after my friends in the states had been lounging on the beach. The idea of transitional seasons does not reach Madrid, however, and the one week of semi-Spring in Alcala de Henares launched into full force Summer the next week. The thermometer on the street hit 38 degrees the first week of June (that's 100 degrees for you Fahrenheit people), baby storks started popping up in giant nests everywhere (looking strikingly large next to their padres, but bright clean fluffy white), and my shoes started melting while I walked through the industrial center to the pharmaceutical company where I teach.

There is a Spanish saying that goes something like, "Don't pack away your coat until the 40th of June," meaning that the winter weather never completely disappears. But 90% of the time now it is HOT HOT HOT, blindingly sunny, pounding heat. Summer storms brew up quickly and hit hard with thunder and lightning like on the Gulf, then dry up in the powerful sun as if they had never been here. It's desert dry and my skin tightens immediately upon walking outside. The sun is so strong that I have new freckles despite numerous applications of sunscreen per day. This with no air conditioning in my apartment.

But really I am grateful. The winter here was 6 months long and much of it was sunless, so this is a refreshing change, especially knowing that by September it will be sliding back into cool. After 7 months of pants I was ready to wear a skirt!

Alcala is beautiful in the sunlight. The people are smiling, happy. Terraces are set up throughout the Plaza de Cervantes and on Calle Mayor, and residents lounge outside under large umbrellas with their tinto de veranos y tapas. As one of my students accidentally put it, "the scent of the flowers and plants burning in the sunshine" surrounds you (along with the occasional stab of hot sewage or dog poo baking on the sidewalk). The sun does not set until 10:30 during these warm nights and people are still eating and walking with their families, screaming children, and dogs at midnight all days of the week. Ice cream stands have appeared on every street corner, and there is nothing like seeing a 90 year old woman walk down the street with a soft serve vanilla cone.