Tag Archives: pueblo

“Typical Spanish”

I remember when, during my first-ever intercambio, I first heard the phrase “Typical Spanish.” I don’t recall what we were talking about, but the phrase stuck with me, not only because it’s not actually something that would come out of a native speaker’s mouth.

Spain is different. We know this. But what is, exactly, “typical” of Spain? Whenever someone asks my opinion on a village fiesta, no matter what I say, their opinion seems to be “typical” (“típico”). But Spain is so diverse: in language, in festivals, in culture, in people. So is anything typical of all of Spain? I’m not sure. But I think the pueblo may just be.

I wrote about Mario’s mother’s pueblo already, Manzanal del Barco. This weekend, it was time to visit Mario’s father’s village, San Cebrián de Castro, for the first time. (I know, I’m surprised I hadn’t been there yet either.) It was their Virgin’s day (yes, they have a village virgin), La Virgen de Realengo. So, obviously, there was a procession. Here are some photos.

IMG_0416

Funnily enough, the priest nearest to the camera (who’s looking at it) was a religion professor at the school I was at last year.

IMG_0428

While telling my mother about this festival, I neglected to mention that the virgin is, indeed, a statue. I told her, “They carried the village virgin around town.” In retrospect, this does sound odd.

IMG_0435

IMG_0446

Mario is enjoying carrying the statue. The men (macho, macho men!) took turns carrying it, because, uh, it is heavy!

IMG_0450

Traditionally, all the children who have done their first communions during the year are in the procession, dressed in their communion attire. In Spain, the little girls, who are all of nine years old (usually), dress like miniature brides, while the boys often dress as marineros (sailors). This little girl was the only child in San Cebrián’s procession.

IMG_0470

You can see Mario’s father at the right of this picture. As the secretario of the local cofradía (Wikipedia says: “A confraternity is normally a Roman Catholic or Orthodox organization of lay people created for the purpose of promoting special works of Christian charity or piety, and approved by the Church hierarchy”), he is in charge of things like maintaining the data of the members, correspondence, badges, etc. He is the man. Obviously.

IMG_0483IMG_0486IMG_0487IMG_0495

After events like these, what else can you say but “typical Spanish”?

About these ads

My Adopted Village

Do you have a village? If the answer to that question is yes, you’re most likely Spanish, or—as in my case—an adopted Spaniard. Mario’s village is called Manzanal del Barco, and it has a total population of 156, according to the Spanish Wikipedia article. Now, unlike many Spanish people, Mario does not actually enjoy the village, at least not for long periods of time.

Nonethless, “hay que ir a veces,” at least to show la guiri what true village life is like.

IMG_0263

So last Saturday, off we went, as there were several festive activites going on in our beloved Manzanal—even if there was only one real holiday, on May 15: San Torcuato. You see, every city in Spain, big or small, has its own patron saint, and Manzanal’s is San Torcuato (Saint Torquatus in English). And, like any great Spanish party, they extend it so that it goes on all week long!

We went on the 19th to hand out invitations to several of Mario’s relatives, and to see—what else?—the bulls. Now when most Americans think of bulls, they think of “running with the bulls” or bullfights. No, no: this was more like bugging a heifer. Seriously, it was not a bull. It was a vaquilla, or a heifer. A female cow. Actually several female cows, as apparently bothering them for too long isn’t nice, so there have to be more than one.

IMG_0245

Not so bothered in this picture.

I won’t say much about the politics of bullfighting, nor this type of spectacle, but it’s not uncommon in Spain, and the whole village came out to see it.

IMG_0249

This guy had to escape.

IMG_0259

Waiting for their turns with the red flag.

IMG_0253

Also on this trip, I learned of another interesting tradition: el mayo (maypole in English), which is a trunk that stands in the main square during the month of May. It’s made by cutting down a tree and then placing it in the main square, where previously a hole is dug so that it doesn’t fall. The also add another branch from a special type of oak tree called an encina. It’s a sign of fertility (oh goody!), because it stands for spring and new life.

IMG_0265

IMG_0275

Have you ever been to a Spanish village? What did you think?

Try Dating a Spaniard

You got problems, I got answers.

  • Does your Spanish need improving? Try dating a Spaniard. They espeak the espainish and they can help. All they have to do is open their mouths and start talking. Simple. Easy. Plus, they have may sexy accents. Score!
  • Does your boyfriend wear jorts? Try dating a Spaniard. They do have impeccable style. My previous post was more about women’s fashion, but…Spanish men, at least the ones I know, know how to dress. Thank you, God.
  • Does your boyfriend’s idea of cooking include Easy Mac? Try dating a Spaniard. Mine’s specialty is arroz con leche (rice pudding) and it is divine. I’ll do a recipe post sometime. He also makes lentejas. The first time I went to his apartment in Salamanca he made me a two course meal, which, of course, knocked me off my feet. Swoon.
  • Do you hate spending vacations in Florida? Try dating a Spaniard. Instead, you can spend summers in el pueblo (the village) where there is exactly one café and no supermarkets. You can sit around and chew the fat, eat until you need to echarte una siestecita, and take long nightly walks. It’s the life. I swear.
  • Do you want to make others curious about your life? Try dating a Spaniard (or, okay, any foreigner I suppose). People tell me that they are curious about Mario and me. They want to know what language we speak, where we want to live, what Mario thinks of the States, what I think of Spain, how do we make this LDR thing work, etc. I mean, if you like that kind of thing, you should try it. I don’t know if I like it always, but sometimes I do. Plus, it gives me blog fodder.
  • Do you want to have the best wedding “reception” ever? Try dating a Spaniard. Okay, so I’m not married or engaged, but I have been to Spanish wedding “receptions” and they are much more fun than U.S. ones. Goodbye, punch and cake. Hello, five course meal, great wine, dancing, raucous laughter, and eardrum-shattering shouts of “¡Vivan los novios!” (Long live the bride and groom!) I Internet know a few people married to Spaniards (Erin, Eric, Hayley), and I think they would concur.

Oh, so yeah, I tried dating one. His name is Mario and, contrary to popular belief, he is not an Italian plumber with a penchant for mushrooms and throwing fireballs when he’s angry. Oddly enough, his penchant is for desserts. A sweeter tooth was never to be found than the one he’s got! (Okay, maybe his dad wins this one.)

In all seriousness, I want to make a disclaimer: by no means do I think all American guys wear jorts and live on Easy Mac. Au contraire, I know this is not so. In the same way, not all Spaniards are sophisticated. The odd Spanish mullet proves this point. (See also: rat tails.) But it is kind of funny and I think I’m pretty lucky to have tried dating a Spaniard, even if I didn’t think of these reasons until two years later.

¡Hasta la próxima!