A Few Things About Spain

As written in my journal last weekend:

After one week as a tourist and one week as a teacher, I find it requisite that I explain the main things I have observed in my short experience in this place.

1) The Food

     My school gives me (and only me) lunch while I'm here.  And that's not a mere ham sandwich.  As lunch is the biggest meal, the portions they give me are bigger than I can eat in a day.  I get a loaf of bread and some sort of soup (brown lentil stew is my favorite so far, gazpacho has a lot of vinegar, and my least favorite is creamed potatoes with chicken broth.)  Course 3 is typically a plate food such as potato salad, course 4 is meat, plain and simple, course 5 is fruit, an apple or a pear, and course 6 is dessert.

     The soup is about 3 cups worth and is packed with protein.  The next course has rice, potato salad, etc, about 1-1 1/2 cups.  Today I had 4 meatballs which each had to be managed by being cut into four pieces.

     Before school, my Spanish food was limited to gambas (shrimp.)  My school director approached me today and said if I want more food, they can send dinner home with me too.  It has previously been assumed that I don't like the food, but I really just strugle with the portions.  And the cream of carrot stew.  I've finished two pork chops in one sitting, but I don't know if I can handle a bowl of creamed carrot stew.  Meanwhile, my home diet consists of eggs, rice, and yogurt, but what I've found here is that all my food (with the exception of the occasional bag of chips or other dessert) serves the primary function of nourishing and to satisfy is a secondary function.  Yes it's social and delicious, but food here does not seem to be robbed of its basic goodness.

2)Modesty

     Being a preschool teacher has shocked me into a great many things.  Within my school, there is a bathroom where boys and girls all go pee-pee in the same big room together with the door open.  My 5-year-olds are in skirts, so panties can be seen basically always.  In the room with three toilets and three sinks and no doors, tiny boys and girls regularly expose themselves to one another.

     I can't say for sure, but I expect that preschools in the US don't function this way, that little girls are at least told to cover up more (that is to say, ever.)  I speculate that in American schools, children don't hold hands and kiss cheeks (without being romantic) throughout elementary school.

     I do know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that one male teacher herds toddlers along by grabbing little bums.  I also saw said male (PE) teacher somewhere between in and out of the older girls' bathroom while his students were presumably changing.  One eight-year-old-or-so was not presently wearing a shirt.  Even I was stunned by this scene (the teacher wasn't looking at her, but was still standing next to her.)  But I was clear across the courtyard--nobody was hiding anything; apparently this was normal.  And today one of my fourth graders used the no-door, three-toilet pee-pee room.  No big deal.

     Something happens to these shameless children over the years: they become shameless adults.  Specifically, their appearances reflect an attitude that sexuality should neither be flaunted nor stifled.  Women here typically cover shoulders and knees, much more so than in Utah.  Blousy shirts tend to be a touch see-through, but always in the most conservative way possible, not paired with ostentatious bras but neutral colors.

     While a lot of the clothing is just that little bit away from being garment friendly for whatever reason, the real impact is modesty of attitude.  There is just no appeal here for the word "sexy."  I hear "beautiful" a lot but never "sexy."  I even saw a lingerie store in Seville whose front window featured garment-friendly nightgowns.  I appreciate the attitude of "sex happens.  Get over it.  And let's not share it with the whole world, eh?"

3) The Accent in Andalucia

     Five points for anyone who can correctly pronounce Andalucia!  In preparing for my move, I was very eager to learn Castilian Spanish.  The concept of Usted just seemed more formal and elagant to me than American Spanish.  But when I got my assignment to the South, warnings began trickling in about the accent.  "Watch out for the lithp!" they joked.  A friend and I even randomly shouted "Ethpana!" in excitement.

     However, this is far from what I found.  My agent and I had a road trip of sorts and his perfect English couldn’t compete with my then accent-deaf ears.  He explained that Thada is a cheap store and I need to go to the beach in Carith.  It took me a while to realize he was talking about Zara and Cadiz (D and R often sound similar.)  It took me four tries to hear an English teacher’s name correctly, and that’s because she translated it for me.  “Hope.”  Oh, yes.  Esperanza, or, in her case, Ethperantha, which is actually prettier in my opinion.  But I quickly looked up when to use the Spanish I was taught and when to use the “th.”  OK, replace Z and C with “th.”  Jereth.  Grathias.  Got it.

     Or so I thought.  One day, passing several people on the street, my “hola”s were met with people saying “Buena.”  BUENA???  Isn’t it buenas dias?  Crap.  Did they change to Buena dia?  One day, not many?  Hmm…so now I say “buena.”  It wasn’t until later in the week that I discovered what was causing my dilemma. I watched “Just like heaven” in Spanish (complete with the lisp.)  I couldn’t figure out why they were talking to other adults as if it were usted, but using “tu”.  I then recalled several adults asking children things like “que quiere” and other unholy phrases to be saying to ninos.  The use of tu mixed with usted? How?  Then I realized that around here, apparently we don’t say “s” at the end of a word.  We’ll say z and call it a “th,” but not s.

     This would fall under the category of “difficult accent” (such as teaching “bracelet” instead of “brathelette” or “Spain” instead of “espain”) except that it obliterates any hop of grammar one may have.  I can put two and two together when it comes to number (do minute is still two minutes; with you so far,) but when it comes to verb endings, I might as well run around shouting “Yo quiero Taco Bell” all day.  Seriously.  I can’t tell if people are talking to tu or usted, which causes some potentially large problems.  I hear no difference between the two for basic verbs.

4) The Hours

     School starts at 9 am, which is really quite early (that’s when bakeries and markets typically open—or later) and goes til 2.  2-4 is lunch-ish time.  I have classes from 4-8pm.  After 8 is shopping time, including groceries.  I do this because the shops are closed during my lunch break.  Dinner is around 10, and bedtime around 12.  Then school starts at 9.

     Weekends are different.  Many bars and restaurants are open on weekends only, and they open around 10 pm.  On Fridays, they stay open til 3 am, Saturdays til 4 am and I don’t recall them being open at all on Sundays.

5)Society

     Like the weather, the people here are warm.  They will stand dangerously close to me and talk faster than I ever imagined human beings could.  They all say hola and Buena in the streets in passing and are eager to help the foreigner who speaks slow and broken Spanish.

     Outside Montellano, in the city Sevilla, dogs and children alike wander at leisure.  Of course, they’re never far from their parents, but they are expected to play and socialize.  Parents, of course, set the example by frequenting bars and cafes.  Children also join in bar attendance; they just drink water (which, by the way, often costs about the price of a beer.)

     I’ve heard that the most important thing to remember in Spain is “No te preocupe.”  Don’t worry.  Here, we don’t worry.  We don’t stress.  We are happy.