Familiar Things

“Experiences are only as good as their catalogue and analysis.”  - Mars Chapman

I’ve had a lot of experiences.  I’m rotten at sharing them.  

For example, the other day I went to Retiro to soak up the Spanish sun and awoke to find a group of guys kicking the soccer ball around in a circle.  This would be no big deal, of course, and hardly worth sharing... except that not one of them had any pants on!  That’s right, they were playing soccer bare-chested and in their underwear - a wide array of underwear, might I add.  And they were having the time of their lives, delighted with their present circumstances and location. This is Spain.

Every week, I meet some new, interesting person.  There’s an African guy a few feet up the hill from my apartment who stands outside the Dia grocery store everyday holding newspapers and opening doors for old women.  The other day, I finally stopped to ask what he’s about.  As it turns out, he’s from Nigeria, and he’s working here to earn money.  He can’t return because of pending paperwork, but he says he doesn’t really want to anyway.  “Africa is rich,” he said.  “But the people are poor.  We don’t have even basic infrastructure - water, electricity, hospitals.  You learn that money isn’t important.  You can live without money, but you cannot get ahead without infrastructure.”  There’s an Iraqi man at church here, Mustafa, who has some incredible perspectives on The State of Things.  My German roommate, Florian, is a wealth of information and precision.  People are fascinating, and most of them are really, really terrific at sharing their experiences.  It’s easy to find them here.

So a lot of things have been charming.  A lot of things, though, have been grueling.  Hunting for an apartment was awful.  I saw some strange apartments, and some even stranger people.  Deal after deal fell through right before the closing date.  Living with a family an hour away from everything, this was a frustrating investment of time, as you can imagine.

Becoming familiar with the Spanish education system has been equally taxing, especially as an assistant coming from a full-blown teaching position.  As it turns out, a Fulbright ETA grant is, paradoxically, a sort of demotion.  While it translates to a low level of responsibility, it also means less power, control, and efficacy.  Hammering out an actual job description and personal mission for myself (because it was never given to me) relieved but did not console me.  I love my co-workers and I feel I can learn a lot from them.  There are just days that it seems a little futile.  (Please note - that’s an American measuring self-worth in productivity, right there.  Run and hide.)

Moreover, leaving a perfect life at home with truly wonderful friends, family, co-workers, a beautiful relationship, and a job I truly loved has been borderline tragedy.  If you feel you have not heard from me often enough, this is why, for I refuse to write when I am grumpy, irritated, angry, cynical, or just plain homesick.  It’s much more efficient to put on a brave face and rent a stupid car in Italy and have an adventure of sorts.  There are 15 days until I come home; I know this without having counted.


And yet, faced with the prospect of leaving, I'm realizing that over six months I have, in fact, carved out quite a life for myself.  I have friends from all walks of life and a multitude of countries (though admittedly, it's often difficult to escape the American expat community), and we meet up for tapas and savor the Spanish evening at a sidewalk cafe eating olives and patatas bravas with Tinto de Verano.  I only just located Golden Crisps at the Hiper [mercado] down the street, thanks to a friend's recommendation.  The annual Bollywood Festival last weekend breathed out colorful dances and delicious food.  Who knows what this weekend holds!  


The prospect of packing all of that up into two suitcases and leaving with little more than a truncated 'sta-lo is daunting and, if I'm honest with myself, borderline tragic.  To use the words of Prince Caspian, I've spent a lot of time missing what was taken from me.. but... luckily, I definitely haven't squandered what was given: experiences, experiences, experiences.  Memories, friends, food... that is my catalogue - the very beginning of it.  I am so thankful, and so, so blessed.  

Cultural Differences: Respect

From El Pais, 11 May 2011 -  "La Madre" by Elvira Lindo

One of Spain's leading newspapers, El Pais, usually has an editorial or two on the last page which examine some aspect of Spanish life or special interest.  A recent article specifically noted Spanish and American cultural differences when it comes to public figures and privacy, with specific reference to Barack Obama's mother.

The text, loosely translated, follows:

"Sometimes cultural differences are so obvious that we cannot reconcile them.  Two Sundays ago, The New York Times featured a front page photo of a young woman kneeling in the grass, holding on her hip a black boy about three years old, who was dressed as a pirate: eye patch, earrings, a skull on his hat and a bad guy mustache. The girl could have passed for a teenager, but no, it was Ann Dunham, the mother of that child, Barry, Barack Obama. 

"I read four painstaking pages devoted to this strange woman who had two racial marriages - an African first,  an Indonesian after - in an era in which having mixed children presented a social challenge. The report tried to find the reasons why that white American girl picked up her six-year-old son and went to Indonesia for a such a long period of his life.  The journalist followed the steps of Ann Durham 40 years later, when almost all traces of their passage had been erased, but nevertheless, she had gathered enough pieces of the puzzle to conclude that this mother - fearless, ahead of her time, and wrapped in a mess of a life - had influenced the spirit of the president.

"I read it as if reading journalism. What's more, it was journalism, but then suddenly I wondered what would happen if our paper devoted its cover to the mother of Zapatero or Rajoy.  And not a flattering story but one attentive to the shadows that all mothers hide, although to our memories they always appear perfect.  I do not think we would be able to wrap our heads around it, and no journalist would take the story, for it would be considered an unacceptable intrusion into privacy.  And maybe all this is true.  However, after reading such portraits, we learn something of the human journey: respect and insight are not incompatible."

This, of course, makes for some cognitive displacement on my part.  The Spaniards I know are unafraid to cross what Americans perceive as definite personal boundaries in day-to-day life.  However, when it comes to public figures, they back off completely.  (This may be why no one seems to know where various political parties' funding goes.)  In America, the situations are reversed: personal boundaries are carefully respected and evaluated for political correctness while public figures are subject to an informational free-for-all.  Why?  How did we arrive to these points?  Which is more valuable?  As the writer concluded, "respect and insight are not incompatible."  Perhaps there is room for improvement on both ends.

Some Cultural Differences

Jerónimo, a music teacher I help with English on Mondays, sent me an article on 39 customs Spaniards should learn in order to integrate more effectively into life in the United States.  "Take a look and tell me what you think," he wrote.

So I did.  After the first two, my hair was standing on end from excitement.   I WASN'T CRAZY, AFTER ALL!!!  The little things that have been accumulating in my brain... right here in front of me!  I hastily wrote him back (probably too enthusiastically, truth be told) and pointed out what have been the biggest differences for me.

Although they probably lose a little of their poignancy with the distance, I thought they might be interesting to the outsider, so I've popped the best items into Google to translate and pasted them here (with little modification... sorry, too lazy).

In order to fully appreciate what this is trying to explain, please assume that Spanish custom is the exact opposite of each, and then try to imagine what that would be like for them here if they didn't adapt, and us there with our myriad of American expectations.

1.  Smile. This muscle movement is very widely spread throughout the North American geography, especially as you are telling someone you're going to sue or you don't agree with him.
2.  Say Thank you for everything. Even if you just got stabbed. Saying thank you is a habit so important that the most important American holiday of the year is Thanksgiving Day. We must always give thanks for everything. One of the most important industries of the country is in the cards "Thank you cards," cards that are sent by post where you give thanks for the go to the party, you give thanks for the invite to the party, by dinner last night, for the gift you have received your child from school. Saying thanks with a Thank You letter that includes a Starbucks gift card for $ X is a common habit to thank a co-worker who will help with this or that on Friday afternoon. Thank the teachers, teachers (there is a Teacher's Appreciation Day, where parents in different ways to thank teachers for their hard work.) We thank the airport to veterans when they return from Iraq, Africa or wherever. Etc.
3.  De- shoe when you get to someone's house. At least ask or make a gesture to try. It is the homeowner who you excuses from that obligation. Hence the importance of not going with tomatoes socks.
4.  Respect the flags and patriotic symbols in general. If the American national anthem plays, it is proper up and listen with respect. No whispers and giggles. And no need to put your hand on your chest like you're the Greco or look at the sky and Santa Teresa in ecstasy.
5. Do not prejudge people or by their appearance, race or religion.  Americans do not pay attention to these things; they are very used to dealing with non-caucasian people. Moreover many of them are not white or Caucasian themselves. So do not ever give anyone you refer to as "the Chinese next door" or "the Indian of the third floor," they are most likely  American. Nor should you ever despise a highly respected social class: the military.
6. To speak with an American you do not need to throw the breath on my face.  Respect safety distances. We talked about it earlier. Normally a safe distance are greater than those we have in Spain or other Hispanic countries.
7.  Learn to hug people who are not familiar. It is an interesting custom. Often replace the two kisses that greet the Spanish. If there is some confidence, and depends on the U.S. zone, the guy can give a kiss on the cheek to the girl. Among friends and neighbors hugs are widely used. Congratulations for graduation, anniversaries usually come with hugs. I found more and more Americans who have accepted both Spanish and actually kisses love, but first "we must test the waters", which is very muddy.
8. I consciously point number 15 I left for tips. This is usually the average tip to be left in restaurants. No tip is legally binding, but tips are supposed to finance so the waiters can pay taxes. It is horribly impolite to leave without leaving one and you will earn more than a dirty look if you try it. If the service was excellent, leaving 20%. If it was bad normalito shooting, give 10%. If the service was horrible miserable leaves two cents to realize you've been upset but not to yell that they've left no tip because they betray to others by the poor service offered.
9.  Learn the flavors are not the same as in Spain. The Americans love the sweet, in fact you will find some products which are in Spain as the Nesquik and yet see that the taste is different, usually more sugar. They cook food under a lot of sauces and flavors that camouflage the original flavor.
10.  Punctuality. We talked about the lack of punctuality as something to be banished from the Iberian customs. Something that will help is that events here usually have a start time, and even more importantly, a final time that everyone starts to leave your engines.
11.  Learn to be polite to your colleagues and do not openly criticize the company. Appreciates a job well done by a partner, applaud. Recognize an effort by a boss or colleague with a difficult project or a goal achieved commended when it has signed a business or has had any personal or professional success.
12.  How's it going leaning English?

Fifty-four Square Inches: A Word on Packing

A quick glance through any newspaper will likely inform you that obesity in America is on the rise. We love our food as much as we love our BBQ. (Indeed, The Economist just ran a long article about our BBQ pride; no region is exempt.) Now then, follow my logic: bigger people equals bigger clothes, and that equals bigger suitcases, right? Wouldn't it stand to reason that airlines, astute and well-informed on their customers as they are, would increase baggage allowances to accommodate our recent changes in... stature? (Please note, I say this as a disinterested patron of 5'8".)

But no! It would appear that the reverse has happened! Because of teaching, I didn't even start thinking about packing until two weeks before I left. Two weeks to transplant my entire existence. (By the way, if you've never tried this, you should. It's enlightening.) That is two weeks to decide which over-the-counter drugs are indispensable when you don't have the energy to explain what you need in a foreign language. Two weeks to plan your reading for the next 6 months. Two weeks to decide how to navigate the change of seasons, as well as to realize what items you're missing. (In my case, that would be a good winter coat and jeans, two items extremely hard to come by at short notice.) Finally, that is two weeks to find out what Spanish teachers wear, how that fits with your wardrobe, and to what extent you are going to conform... or not conform... and then arrange your suitcase accordingly.

Preparing the suitcase is a task in and of itself. There is, as everyone knows, a 50-pound limit for every suitcase you check. However, there is a very good chance that your suitcase will hold more than 50 pounds, and that there will be a good three inches left over on top, so it's important to distribute weight around your baggage well. If you do this, though, the extra space is maddening. Clearly, Samsonite and Delsey have acclimated to our enlarged population quite well.

It came as a bit of surprise, then, when at the airport check-in, they charged me extra money for my second bag. What, you say?! One bag! That's right, my friends. American Airlines has generously allowed you one bag for your international trip. But, you say, doesn't 'international' imply that it will most likely be a long trip? Why would they take away your second bag? Surely no other airline does this!

Alas, such is the sad state of things. Last time I checked, Lufthansa and Iberica allow two bags. Foreign airlines, whose citizens are decidedly smaller than ours, not to mention less materialistic (that is to say, more minimalist). Go figure.

Is there, in fact, a correlation between a person's weight and the baggage allowance? Probably not. But I maintain that there is a decided gap in marketing strategies somewhere along the line. In a nation that caters to our every whim and vanity, you would think that something as extravagant as air travel would follow suite. But to charge for an additional bag... that is extravagant.