New page update – “Un americano en Galicia”
Feel free to check out the new page that I’ve added in the upper right-hand corner. It’s the first step of a project that my roommate and I are going to be working on throughout the course of the year.
I’ll hopefully be posting tomorrow on my weekend adventures. Long story short I went out, made friends with some fishermen, and ate huge crabs and octopus with them.
First Big Weekend Trip – Ferrol
It has been brought to my attention via various sources around the internet that I have been slacking in updating this blog. I tend to agree. To my loyal followers, I offer my apologies. It has been almost two weeks since I last posted. Needless to say, these past two weeks have been pretty busy, as I’ve been getting situated here in Ribeira. I did however have the chance to take my first big trip of the year last weekend. I decided to go visit my friend Chris in Ferrol, a Galician city about two hours north of me. I met Chris about 5 years ago while working at the fine institution known as Nonno’s Pizza, Pasta, & Sandwiches. Last March, he called me out of the blue (I hadn’t heard from him in over a year) asking me about my trip to Spain, wondering what he needed to do in order to have a similar experience. That phone call was really the beginning of my journey to come back to Spain. Without Chris, I’m not sure if I would have had the motivation to do all the necessary paperwork to return. I’m glad he called that day, otherwise I might not have ever come back. I might not have ever followed my heart.
I was fortunate enough to find a group of teachers from my school that were heading to Ferrol the same weekend, and they were more than happy to take me along with them. Three señoras and myself, all packed into one lime green, eco-friendly European hatchback. Pretty standard. When we got to Ferrol they dropped me off and we went our separate ways for the weekend. It then dawned upon me that I really had no idea where I needed to go; all I knew was that I had to get to the Plaza España. So I ask the first guy I see how to get there and he gives me a pretty weak response. Pointing off into a general direction he says (I think in Galego), “second street, take a right,” and then goes right back into the restaurant where he was working. Thanks guy. At least I have a general direction. So I second street take a right and within a few minutes I get to a large plaza. Plaza España right? Of course not. Plaza de las Armas. So I’m hanging in the Plaza de las Armas and I ask the first person I see how to get to the Plaza España. I ask an older woman with a pleasant smile on her face. She points off into a general direction and says something along the line of, “second street, take a right.” She smiles at me and walks away. Apparently an old man witnessed this interaction and could tell that I wasn’t too thrilled with this response so he decides to step in and take charge. He points straight ahead at a large building dominating the square and says, “ayuntamiento,” in English more or less “town hall.” He smiles, nods his head, and then walks away. I’m still not quite sure why he thought that bit of information would help me, but nevertheless he seemed satisfied with his efforts. So I go past the ayuntamiento then second street take a right and start walking towards where I think Plaza España is located. I’m pretty confident that I’m headed in the right direction because I have been so expertly guided by the locals, but I decide to reassure myself and ask one more person. To my luck there just so happened to be someone headed my direction, and he was obviously not from Galicia (I think he was Polish or something). Just in case, I try and bust out my most proper Spanish and say, “Excuse me sir, I’m not sure if you can help me but I’m trying to get to Plaza España. Do you know where Plaza España is?” He gave me a blank stare, but his eyes lit up when I said Plaza España. Struggling to use every ounce of energy he had in his brain he points down the street and definitively says “Calle… Siempre.” Street… Always. Perfect! This guy knows what’s up. Keep it simple man. I love immigrants. Why? Because I am one. I smile at him, nod my head and continue down the street with no plans to change my course. Within a few minutes, I arrive at the Plaza España, and waiting for me there are Chris and his roommate Mike from Philly.
Now Mike from Philly just goes by Mike, but I think it’d way cooler if he would always go by Mike from Philly, and if you say it with a sweet Philly accent. Yeah I don’t really know what a Philly accent sounds like either. Just think Rocky. So Chris, Mike from Philly, and I start heading back to their place and they begin to give me the game plan for the entire weekend. Tapas at La Piedra, a local bar where they’ve already befriended the bartenders, dinner with some of Chris’s students (he teaches at an official language school and has students who are like 20 – 30 years old), and of course, chicas, or so they say. We get to their apartment and Mike had some things to finish up for his afternoon classes, so Chris and I head straight to La Piedra.
Throughout the course of the weekend, we definitely spent more time at La Piedra than anywhere else. Every night there was a great environment with great tapas, and it always helps when you’re friends with the bartenders. Earlier, Chris had told me about Rubén and Marcelo. Rubén, a party animal at heart, recently had to tame his ways due to the birth of his now one-month old daughter, but this weekend he got special permission from his mujer to show us a good time. I actually don’t know if he got permission. In fact he probably didn’t. Regardless, he showed us a great time all weekend. His partner in crime, Marcelo, is originally from Uruguay but has now been in Spain for ten years. He spoke with a typical Uruguayan accent (which means I had a really hard time understanding him) and I also think it’s safe to say that he has been to the gym every day for at least the past ten years. I especially tried not to piss him off, but I don’t think it would have been possible anyways. Just like Rubén, he was overly friendly and showed us a great time all weekend.
Here is a video of a typical evening at La Piedra. Note the small child sitting next to us at the bar snagging tapas. They don’t ask for IDs in Spain. They served tapas here in a way that I had never seen before. They placed multiple trays around the bar, each containing a different tapa, and would gradually move them around the bar so that everyone could try each different type. Notice that the two trays in front of us are empty. That’s what happens when you put the tapas in front of a group of hungry americanos. Chris starts to talk about some guy breaking cars or something. I think that’s in reference to the guy directly across the bar who Mike claimed looked like Robert De Niro. I made a mistake and zoomed in on the guy in the pink shirt. I don’t think he has smashed any cars in his lifetime. Marcelo and Rubén are holding down the bar.
Throughout the weekend, our typical day consisted of more or less the following:
– Sleep until early afternoon
– After waking up, wander around Ferrol for a few hours. There isn’t really much to do in Ferrol in terms of tourism. To give you perspective, I think the highlight of any afternoon came when Mike from Philly bought a new pair of basketball shoes. They were 20 euro. Chris also routinely dominated us playing gin rummy.
– At around 8:30 or so we would head over to La Piedra for some tapas and beers. Estrella Galicia Reserva 1906 was our drink of choice.
– Around 10:00 or so we would meet up for dinner with whomever we had arranged to eat with. Highlights included eating at two different Argentine BBQ places as well as having a typical Galician dinner with some of Chris’s students.
– After dinner, we would return to close out La Piedra and get free beers from Rubén and Marcelo. Then we’d head out to the bars. Usually around 12:30 or so. After barhopping until about five in the morning, we were then presented with the option of going home or going to the discoteca in town, “West.” I think it was supposed to be a Wild West themed discoteca but the only thing that I really saw were a bunch of random barrels that replaced tables. We went once (Saturday night) and needless to say, I did not feel like I was in the Wild West. They did however briefly cut away from the typical Spanish discoteca music and played Queen – “We Will Rock You,” and then shortly after, Nirvana – “Smells like Teen Spirit.” For Nirvana we started a mosh pit in the middle of the dance floor and various Spaniards joined in. It ruled. The bouncers then came and told us to calm down using the universal two palm, fingers up technique; however it did not even cross their mind to kick us out because we were in Spain. It was pretty awesome.
Here are some more videos and photos chronicling the weekend. The photo is of the typical Galician dinner that we enjoyed with Chris’s students. Then we’ve got some flaming shots with Rubén, Marcelo, Chris, and Mike (Notice that they all took the shots without me… cabrones). Also, we drank the shots with straws. I’ve determined that anytime you have to use a straw to drink a liquor that is strong enough to be lit on fire it is bad news. Finally we’ve got “We Will Rock You” at West followed by me waiting at the bus stop the same morning to head back to my town. As you can tell from my commentary, it was a pretty long night. In fact, it was a pretty long weekend. I’m staying home for this weekend. Hopefully I can discover some of the nightlife here in Ribeira. Hasta la próxima!
Sorry Folks
I’ve been slacking I know. Update coming tomorrow (11/19). Hope all’s well in the land of the free.
First Week of School – Spanish Style
So today was the culmination of my first full week of school back here in España. I thought it would be worth noting a few things in order to give a quick lesson in cultural studies. Here’s a brief summary of my week…
Preface – I love Spain
Monday – By far my most intense day of work. Four hours of class (intense right?). Fortunately this Monday was a holiday here in Spain and there was no school or work or anything else. Just siestas. Day 1… Success.
Tuesday – Two hours of class beginning at noon. Listened to U2 and talked about the Industrial Revolution. How do you say cotton gin in Spanish? Who knows!? Students generally have no idea what I am saying when I speak English. Day 2… Success.
Wednesday – My students cannot spell this day of the week. Three hours of class today. Had to show up at 9:00 for the beginning of the school day. My ride was about 10 minutes late picking me up. Uh oh, I’m gonna be late for my first class with a new teacher. Oh wait, the school bus was also late picking up the students. School started 10 minutes late and I made it on time. We talk about numbers. Students have difficulty distinguishing 13 from 30. Second hour of class, the teacher does not show up. Sees no need to notify anyone about her plans not to come today. I give class on my own. We talk about the United States. One girl expresses her love for Justin Beiber while a guy, in response to me asking him what he does on the weekends, recites Kiss lyrics in perfect English… “I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day.” Despite this cultural connection, students generally have no idea what I am saying when I speak in English. Third hour, they have a test. Teacher informs me that I need not show up today. Day 3… Success.
Thursday – Two hours of class. First hour, same teacher as yesterday does not show up. This time, she gave notice so I slept in. Second hour, students need to finish a movie that they were watching from the day before. I am told that I don’t have to go to this class today so I do not go. Day 4… Success.
Friday – Trick question. I don’t work on Fridays. Only Monday through Thursday. Spain rules. Anyways, it’s not even Friday yet. Hopefully I’ll have something good to say about this weekend. Day 5…
Spain is pretty cool…
Aqui la gente no viene de paso
It rains a lot in Galicia. More than any other region in Spain. Here on the coast at least, even during a day filled with rain, we will get a period when the sun comes out to shine. Although it was raining the entire weekend, yesterday was a beautiful day, so I decided to go exploring for a bit.
Here in Ribeira, when you go “out” of town you are essentially going up, away from the sea and into the surrounding hills and towns. Walking without a particular destination in mind, I decided to follow a street leading out of town to the southwest, towards the tip of the peninsula. I had become familiar with this street a few days earlier walking to school for the first time. Unfortunately, this street doesn’t lead to my school, a fact which I learned after about 45 minutes of walking up, down and around. I finally asked some local Gallego dude for directions and he put me on my way. I showed up to school sweating my ass off and feeling really out of shape. This must have been particularly pleasant for the female teachers as it’s customary here to give two “besitos” (little kisses) on the cheek upon introduction. I remember the first time I was in Spain how awkward it was being expected to kiss all these random ladies on the cheeks, but hey, at least they return the favor. Anyways, the besitos are absolutely critical and it’s nearly a guarantee when you say hello to someone, especially when meeting them for the first time. To give you an idea of how bad I was sweating, the first lady and I gave a standard besito on the first cheek, but a phenomenon occurred on the second as we seemingly coordinated what I’m going to call an “air besito,” neglecting to actually make contact with each other. To make matters worse, ladies two and three resorted to handshakes. It’s ok, we’re in Spain, “no pasa nada.” Nevertheless, it was a pleasant introduction and I look forward to more besitos in the future. Back to yesterday’s exploration. On my walk yesterday I realized that something my flatmate Óscar told me earlier was true, that “aqui la gente no viene de paso,” roughly “people don’t come here just to pass through.”
Of course, people don’t come here just to pass through. On the other side of town is the ocean. If you come to Ribeira, you either live here, have a really good reason for being here, or are extremely lost. Maybe you can say that I am a combination of the three. My point though is not to describe the geographical location of Ribeira, that you can tell just by looking at a map. Instead, I began to think about the characteristics of places like Ribeira, places that people don’t come to just to pass through and, more importantly, the character of its people. I walked out of town following the path that seemed most interesting and after about 20 minutes of walking I came to a forest. The road I was on continued past the forest, running along the outside of it. There were also trails leading into the forest. I came to my first big decision… do I go into the forest or do I continue on the main road? I think you already know my decision. Following the trails, I encountered landscapes that actually reminded me a lot of the typical forest preserve in Chicago. A bit unexciting, but at the same tame it gave me a sense of direction and security. As I got deeper and deeper into the woods I discovered various formations of large rocks. I mean huge rocks… considering the altitude and location, I have no idea how they got there. The only logical explanation seemed like they had come from the sky, like a handful of pebbles thrown down from the heavens (is that a logical explanation?). After about 20 more minutes of following these trails, I arrived at a set of rocks that from here on out I am going to refer to as “my spot.” I climbed to the top of the rocks (don’t worry mom, this was not dangerous at all…. and if it was, I probably still would have done it anyways and just not tell you about it.). From the top of my spot, you can see above the treetops and overlook the very tip of the peninsula, towards a neighboring town called Aguiño and out into the ocean. The view was truly amazing. I’m not going to try and describe it because I can’t. I felt so isolated, so independent, in harmony with my surroundings. It made me want to do yoga or something. I sat down to soak it all in, and Óscar’s words immediately began echoing in my head… “Jeremy, aqui la gente no viene de paso.”
As I looked down upon Aguiño, I thought to myself, “what would it be like to actually have lived here for my whole life?” Considering the contrast from the hustle and bustle of Chicago, could I even being to grasp this concept? In reality the answer was right there inside of me. The people here seem to live independently, in perfect harmony with their surroundings, just as they have been doing for generations. They live off the land and from the sea… off their land and their sea. They wouldn’t rather be anywhere other than the tip of this peninsula, and they take pride in this. They truly consider themselves to be different from the rest of Spain, and I can see this in the way that they embrace Galician culture and through their consistent use of the Galician language “Galego.” I had read about this, but as it goes with anything, experiencing it leads to a more complete realization. In a place like this, where “la gente no viene de paso,” people are proud of where they come from because their land and their home truly forms part of who they are. Could I live here forever? No, Chicago has already formed part of me; however, I am going to give it my best for the next few months. I hope to learn a lot from the people here. I believe I already have.
HERE’S SOME VIDEO…. PARDON MY OBVIOUS COMMENTARY…. trees…. ocean…. rocks….
Jeremy in Galicia 