Pre-Pascua Parties

Easter season, or holy week is referred to here as Pascua. And like everything here in Spain, there are many differences between here, and the land of the stars and stripes. First thing I noticed a few days ago, is signs up at every business: supermarket, bakery, paella places, banks, cafés, schools etc... that things will be  closed beginning thursday of holy week (semana santa).

When I asked about traditions of Pascua (such as painting eggs, easter bunnies and easter baskets) I am told they do not exist, except it is slowly creeping in due to American influence. (oops) What was tradition was to go fly a kite on easter, eat the mona de pascua (see below) and then everyone recieved a small casuela with a fried egg and fried rabbit..... yes, they eat the real thing, not like us Americans who eat the chocolatey sugary more delicious version

Here is the mona de pascua. Basically it is "sweet" bread with an egg in it... sometimes hard boiled, but sometimes the child friendly chocolate hollow egg with a regalito or little prize inside.
I was so excited to try this bread, because it kind of sometimes looks like a giant hard pretzel with sprinkles on top.... but it sure did disappoint. And it just reinforced my ideas that spaniards have no taste buds because this is so bland and boring!

Since as I said, I like to bring cool American things here to Spain, I brought over a favorite past time: dying easter eggs!  I did this with the children I tutor. (we colored eggs in school with marker as well). There were a total of 6 children who participated in my egg dying party. two 4 year olds, a 5 year old, two 8 year olds, and my 11 year old.  They are all in bilingual school, but this does not mean they listen. For the most part, it was successful, it just ended with food colored hands!!!!

A fellow fulbrighter's fiance luckally game and like a gem that he is, brought me an egg dying set. But I also made my own homemade dyes with food coloring, water and vinegar.

The best part about this experience was that as soon as the eggs were even remotely dry.... they started to crack them on each others heads and eat them. The result was egg shells everywhere, egg yolk everywhere, full bellies, and some dyed foreheads.
Later I informed them of our easter egg hunt... but i left out the part about the easter bunny to save their parents from having to go along with it. They loved this idea and with the 2 eggs they had left (out of 22) they took turns hiding them from each other!

Groupies

Valencia can be a peculiar place. For anyone who speaks to me on a somewhat regular basis, you know that I really did not like Valencia my first well, 6 months here. Finally I'm beginning to warm up to it, but only after accepting the truth: that Valencia is a Province, and therefore its residents are Provincial. Here are some of dictionary.com's best definitions

pro·vin·cial

/prəˈvɪnʃəl/ Show Spe[pruh-vin-shuhl]

–adjective

1. belonging or peculiar to some particular province;  local: the provincial newspaper.

2. of or pertaining to the provinces: provincial customs; provincial dress.

3. having or showing the manners, viewpoints, etc., considered characteristic of unsophisticated inhabitants of a province;  rustic; narrow or illiberal; parochial: a provincial point of view.

4. a person who lacks urban sophistication or broad-mindedness.

 

Well, those are interesting. And aside from "lacking urban sophistication", I think you could change the word provincial to "Valencian". 

 

Although I could write a book on Valencian feelings of provincialism, Today I am going to stick to one theme: Groups]\

The girls and I noticed early on that it was not going to be very easy to make friends. For the most part we all had past experiences in Spain, myself in Madrid, Nora in Leon and Margaux in Seville and we immediatly set the bar to those experiences. I had made enough friends in Madrid after being there for less than 4 weeks, whom I still talk to and see when I visit. It was easy to make friends in the past, let's get out and meet people!

Not so much. We would go out to bars or cafe's and try to integrate or at least chat with others.And they would chat with us... for about 3 minutes. Then before we knew it, at the next pause in the conversation, they had turned their backs and were chatting with their friends again.

Then we noticed that everyone is in little groups. And no one talks to people in the group next to them! In bars, at botellóns, at discos.... groups, groups groups! And at the discos, they don't dance! They stay in their group and chat!

This blew my mind. I didn't understand.

Correction: This STILL blows my mind. I STILL don't understand

 

I think back to my life at home. Where I have about 7 different groups of friends. Beach friends, education class friends, spanish class friends, rugby friends, FORSPRO friends, work friends, high school friends.... shall I continue?

I think back to college, going to my beloved Red Jug Pub, and going with one group of friends, and then seeing other groups of friends and rotating throughout the night. Hanging out with just about everyone in the bar, leaving with a new group of friends to go to another bar. It's natural!

But not here. The only thing left to do was to accept this fact of my Vida Valencia: Chelsea will not be making Valencian friends.

But I am not the only one with this experience. Here are some accounts from the other girls in the program, even those who do not live in the city:

A friend who lives in a smaller city north of Valencia told me of how she went to a disco with some Erasmus friends (friends from other parts of Europe who are studying here). She told me that no one wanted to dance. And when she saw someone she wanted to talk to or dance with across the floor, he just stayed in his group, not dancing. "I don't get it" she said "they just stand around in their groups all night!"

Another friend went to Catholic mass one night (it was a Saturday at 930pm  if that isn't weird enough). The next day she told me about her experience. She told me that when they entered the church, everyone went into small rooms throughout the building. Mass was given in... you guessed it: GROUPS. Everyone has their group that they meet with every week. And they have mass together. They are not congregated in one large community group where they can share this experience as a whole and throw the peace signs up to friends and family across the room. Some families were separated and children were in different groups than their family.

Now I wasn't necessarily raised to be very religious, I just turned out that way with a little help from my wonderful grandma, Eleanor. But from my experiences, you go to church, sometimes with one other friend or family member, or sometimes with 12 family members. And you all sit together and enjoy mass together: singing, praying, and climbing over each other to show signs of peace to the person at the other end of the pew. It's all part of the experience of being a family, and being a community.

Lastly, my one roommate who has had a conversation partner from Valencia for quite some time now, had a very interesting conversation with him this past week. I am not sure how the conversation started, but they were discussing contrasting values of work and family. In Valencia, family is top priority, which I do not disagree with at all. But yes, perhaps sometimes Americans will go a little further for a job or career, and making it more difficult to keep family a top priority.  

He asked something along the lines of "wait, so in America, you just move to the other side of the country for a job?"

Well yes, if its available. And sometimes the living conditions may be more desirable. 

"And what about your friends?"

You make new ones!

"wait, you just make new friends???"

Yes, sort of. But you stay friends with the other ones too.

Now by April, hearing that a Valencian could not fathom the idea of making new friends did not surprise me, not in the least. It just reinforced my already formed ideas and further proved the hypothesis I had formed months ago about this city: Valencians are friendly, but they don't want to be your friend.... especially when you're not already Valencian or at least Spanish! 

I hope this doesn't seem too harsh. I know this blog isn't applicable to ALL Valencians.... so if you're out there PLEASE, PROVE ME WRONG!

Spanish Health Care Take two

I blogged back in October about my experience at a Spanish medico's office. It wasn't a horrible experience, just different.  But ever since then, and because I did not receive my promised reimbursement for the visit, I have been avoiding the medicos like the plague.

Some illnesses and ailments have come up since then, but I have always been stubborn and refused to go to the doctor or hospital. I always said "no no I'll be fine, I'll get better soon with rest"... And I survived.

But recently, It has been hurting to walk. I have been limping around the city on a bummed ankle. What happened? I tried out athleticism again. I began running an average of 4 times a week for 4-5 kilometers a day. I felt great! Until two days later my ankle was swollen and throbbing!

So I swallowed my pride and headed over to a recommended professional in the town where my school is. He is a physical therapist. And hey, I'd rather go to him rather then waste my time and money at the hospital getting unnecessary x-rays.

The fellow examined my ankle, asked me some questions,  and applied pressure all over my foot and leg asking "le duele?" (does it hurt?) and waiting for my si, no or ow!

Turns out, I did not sprain it like I originally thought. He diagnosed me with tendonitis which I am familiar with.
Then he told me I need plantillas..... or shoe inserts which unfortunately I am already familiar with as well due to my battle with fasciitis. But I do not where those indestructible ceramic things in my shoes, because they hare hard ceramic and not the least bit comfortable. Actually, THEY HURT!

So this man brought out this machine I am also familiar with that sends electric waves through my muscle (I had this done weekly for 10 weeks for my fasciitis two summers ago). Then he did something I was not so familiar with.... an ultrasound.... on my ankle (can my ankle be preggers?)

Then he tied ice around my ankle, and wrapped it up in a nice splint like the school's sports trainer does, and told me to keep it on, wrap it in a bag when I shower and come back Monday!

Then I received the standard doctor lecture "this is from running, Chelsea. This is a problem with your feet. You can not run with out your plantillas. They give you the support you need. These shoes you were are unacceptable, there is no support!"  But my plantillas make me want to cry a) because they hurt and b) because I cant wear nice shoes with them.

I thought a spanish doc would be more understanding of my need to wear nice shoes and not wear Nike running shoes every day, but I guess not. He must have studied at the same college ad my podiatrist in New York who I vowed never to go to again.

So until I get my new running sneaks and the swelling in my ankle goes down,  its ice, elevation, and wearing a plastic bag in the shower for me!

Thats A Wrap!

This blog is another very emotional blog... because last night was a very emotional event... our last cooking class! El fin del curso!

Taking this cooking class was one of the best decisions I made while here in Valencia. I love the experiences I had while in the class: making new friends, learning new techniques, learning new vocabulary, practicing my Spanish, and eating delicious food (of course)

The class was particularly interesting because we were so diverse, and diversity is hard to come by here in Valencia! We were literally from all over the globe: New York, Maryland, Valencia, Germany, Mexico, Argentina and Japan! All united by a love for cooking (and eating) By the end, we were a nice little family who only saw each other on tuesdays.

While at our last dinner, we all shared what was our favorite and least favorite dishes, and we shared lots of drinks and lots of laughs.

Although it was extremely difficult to chose, looking back, my favorite dish was the Merluza in an orange sauce. Other peoples favorites included the Chicken/Artichoke soup, and of course, the Paella like dish was the favorite for Valencians. (For complete pictures and captions click here for Margaux's album!)

I can not choose a least favorite dish... but what I CAN choose is a least favorite PREPARATION for a dish... it occurred on our last class. Maybe Gustavo wanted to go out with a bang or something, like a grand finale, but I really think I could have lived without watching live eels get their heads chopped off, then chopped into pieces, and see the squirm for another 30 minutes until they were boiled in a hot savory broth.

I am going to treasure my librita de recetas probably for as long as I live, and I have already prepared a handful of dishes (or slight variations because I have no desire to eat canned quail, that still needs to be boned)

Something else I will treasure forever:

MY DIPLOMA!!!!! Graduate of the Intermediate cooking class!! (can I add this to my resume?)


Now for the question that I ask after the end of everything good that must come to an end :
What Next????

That's easy! THE ADVANCED COURSE!

Bringing the best part of American culture to Spain: CHEERLEADING

Yes, yes, It's true. I'm going extracurricular here in Valencia!  And what can I bring to the table? Why of course I choose Cheerleading!

Back when applying for this wonderful grant, we had to propose a "side project". This was a pretty broad point, so I said that I would try to start a cheerleading team, because after spending a summer in Spain, I learned cheerleading did not exist here, and no one really knew what it was (except for those who have seen Bring it On)

But some things kept me from doing this from day one (like lack of a gym, lack of English language knowledge, lack of extracurricular activities, lack of time for extra curriculars, lack of laws and safety precautions, lack of nurses and certified professionals!- USA, you ruined me with negative thoughts!)

But now that the weather is getting nice, my kids can understand me, and I learned some things in Spain are pretty easy going, I've decided April is the perfect time to start my new sport!

I posted fliers outside of the 3rd/4th, 5th and 6th grade classes, inviting all to join (though co-ed cheerleading isn't very popular in primary school)

At the first practice, I went over a contract I made up, and taught my 20 new cheerleaders some motions, 2 cheers and a jump (it did not occur to me to maybe brush up on my own jumps before showing them one... oops)

We will now meet 1 hour every Tuesday, where we can practice our cheers, jumps, cartwheels, a dance and maybe stunting (however the thought of this makes me quiver!)

By the end of June, I hope we can have a routine to perform for the school, almost like a competition routine or "half-time" show!

I think my school is pretty supportive of this. Know how I know? The principal called the local newspaper to tell them! So today I had a photographer!
"We're going to be famous!" I told my now team of about 15 girls

This cheerleading project for me is a way to stay in the game. But it's also for me to help the girls. Soccer is so prominent in Spain, and they need a fun activity too! It also helps to improve their English (understanding and pronunciation). Not to mention all the attention we get while practicing in the school yard.

Today after leaving practice, I found myself with a huge smile on my face and some pep in my step (despite the soreness from toe-touches). I thought to myself: this is what I love. Cheerleading is a part of me and I am so excited and so happy to share it with another part of the world!

Creating myself by creating lists... and more confusing topics

I really like making lists. Shopping lists, list of expenses, packing lists, places to go lists, etc etc.
Here is a new list I've made:

Things That Confuse me
1) Love
2) Happiness

These are two semi-simple words that to me, carry a lot of confusion and uncertainty. Especially because they are two words that generally work together, hand in hand. If you have love, you're happy, and things that make you happy are things you love.

But what happens when having what you love isn't making you happy? Do you throw in the towel and call it quits? Wave the little white flag? Or do you reassess how you utilize the things you love and the things that make you happy to get rid of the confusion and uncertainty?

Someone I know is always asking me: "Chelsea, what do you LOVE?"
My usual answer is generally something like "chocolate" or "the sun" (ironically, two things that don't naturally go together) It's rarely a person or something abstract. It's generally something that supplies immediate satisfaction, something I can see or measure

But many times thinking things through and writing them down helps me pin point what I love and what makes makes me happy.  Things that are more abstract. So here I am making more lists.

Ive made these lists an a journal given to me by my best friend (props to Jamie Seminara). And they are ongoing lists. But when I list things am I listing things that I already know make me happy? Or am I naming things that now will bring me awareness of happiness because I added them to the list?

I write this confusing blog for all to see, because this is connected to my Vida Valenciana. You see, I love Spain. It is the reason I applied for this grant. I loved Spain and I wanted to live there (or here, depending on where you are reading from)

But sometimes (like now) I fall into a funk, a dry spell. Where I'm more than just homesick for my family and friends. I start wondering is living here in Spain really making me happy? I don't fit in here, I don't belong. I don't have my family, and I'm really lacking in the true friends department

Is it all worth it?

This comes at a very inconvenient time for me; a time when I'm trying to figure out my plans for next year. Do I go home like most Fulbrighters will when this is over? If I go "home" do I stay in Shirley, New York? Or do I venture to new places in America? Do I follow my gut and move to Madrid? Or do I stay where what feels like a new home, Valencia?

Do I love Spain, Spanish and traveling enough to stay longer? Will that make me happy?

So along with making my lists of "Things that make Chelsea HAPPY" (i.e.beautiful days, cooking, chocolate, travel, learning, compliments-giving and receiving ones that are genuine, having a plan and reading) and "Things Chelsea Dixon LOVES" (sun, chocolate, feeling confident, family, laughing with good friends over good food or good wine, and traveling) I'm also creating a list of Personal Commandments (inspired by The Happiness Project)
In making this list, I have ganas of creating myself and also sorting out this mess of a brain I have to help me sleep and better make decisions


- Don't be too hard on myself
-Be kind to my body (aka eat right and exercise) 
-Be affectionate
-Go with my gut, but consider the consequences! (sometimes that gut feeling is just hunger!)
-Do it now, not tomorrow
-Don't stress over the future!
-Be thankful
-Be positive, avoid negatives,including people. (I wanted to make a list of things I hate/make me angry... but that would be contradictory!)
-Stick to what makes ME happy
-Be true to who I am
-Learn everyday
-Freedom is where your feet are  
- "Don't make people a priority who treat you like an option."-M. Twain
-Make time for what matters most (refer back to your happiness list!)
- To be continued...




Thank you for reading my rant! Updates will be supplied as they surface! Suggestions and words of wisdom are always appreciated!