Long Time, No Blog

Sorry about not posting much lately - a new born, family visits and suffocating humidity allow for little time to blog.  Hopefully, things will return to normal this week.  In the meantime, feel free to write or comment with any ideas or suggestions you'd like me to write about

Happy Saint John

Tomorrow is Sant Joan in Catalunya and San Juan in the rest of Spain.  A national holiday it marks the start of the summer season and tonight the streets will be full of people partying and migrating to the beach in celebration.  Along the way kids will be trowing firecrackers and impromtu bonfires will be blazing in intersentions, while groups of men and women will be running around with sparklers and setting fire to piles of wood.  It's truly amazing the city doesn't burn down, but I guess that's what come from centuries of practice.  If going out, I recommend wearing long sleeve shirts and pants with shoes and not flip-flops to avoid and stray sparks from leaving a nasty mark.

¡Go to the Shit!

In honor of a Spanish bar near Valencia that's come up with an innovative way to help survive the economic crisis by offering free drinks to people who come up with the best insult, here are my favorite Spanish curses.

Me cago en la leche - I shit in the milk.  You can also shit on your whore of a mother (tu puta madre), the communion wafer (la ostia) or if you're particularly angry god (dios).

Vete a la mierda - Go to the shit.  Vete a tomar por culo - Go and take it by ass.  Que te den por culo - They give it to you by ass.  All great ways to get rid of someone.

Coño/joder - Cunt/fuck.  Used as standard punctuation.

Cojones - Bullshit.

Ostia puta - Communion Wafer Whore.

The thing is: you can't put your own twist on these expressions like we did back in the day with "mother jokes" and say, for example, me cago en los cereales que comes por la mañana. (I shit in your breakfast cereal) or vete a la mierda y bañarte (go to the shit and swim) because if you do, the Spanish will say: Estas como una cabra (You're like a goat) which means you're crazy.

Move Abroad and Get Creative

A recent article in the Economist cited a study that found people who live in foreign countries tend to be more creative and do better when it comes to difficult negotiations.  Is this true?  Blogger Oye Rubia thinks so and chalks it up to having to speak a foreign language.  But is it merely a question of linguistics, or is there more to it?

From my personal experience, I'd say this creativity has more to do with the freedom of thought that comes with moving to a foreign land.  Basic assumptions about life are challenged by new experiences, showing us that there is more than one way to do things. Suddenly the simplest task can become a completely different experience, triggering a whole new thought process as we compare our new life to the one we left, and learn that there is no better or worse - only different.  While without the comfortable surroundings of our past, we are forced to get out and experience life, rather than settle into a daily routine of letting it pass us by.  So by the end of even the most unadventurous day, our minds are full of sights, sounds and smells that they wouldn't have been otherwise, stimulating our thoughts and changing our perceptions, which in turn opens up all new ways of looking at things and thus inspiring creativity.

What should we call it?

Picking the name for your baby is one of the first big decisions for expecting parents.  After all, what you call your child will play a key role in your progeny's personal development.  One only needs to listen to the Johnny Cash song "A Boy Called Sue" to know that.  And, while coming to an agreement is never easy, having parents from different countries who speak different languages presents new set of interesting complications. 

For example in Spain, there's the tradition of naming your child after religious figures or situations.  In fact kids here not only celebrate their birthday, but also the day of the saint or religious holiday that they're named after.  So, other than the various Virgins who serve as inspiration for such girls' names as Macarena (yes, like the song) or Mercedes (like the car), there is also the option of: Concepción Inmaculada (the Immaculate Conception), Ascensión/Asunción (the ascension) and Dolores (pains as in the Friday of Pain), while boys' names often combine biblical personalities such as Jose Maria (Joseph Mary) or Juan Miguel (John Michael) or Juan Jose (John Joseph), which are in turn shortened and pronounced Josema (Hose-emma), Juanmi (Who-an-me), and Juanjo (Who-an-hoe) respectively.  All of which is perfectly normal in a country where it's also not unusual to use the same name for your child that you and your father or mother have, but imagine if your kid spent any time in either the states or the U.K. 

Of course, if you decide to give your offspring an English name, you can expect Spaniards to quickly find their equivalent, making it moot.  In other words George becomes Jorge (Whore-hey), Josephine-Josefina (Hose-effeena) and  James-Jaime (High-may) whether you like it or not.  And if you elect a shortened version of a traditional name like say Joe, then you run the risk of Spanish kids calling him "Fuck" like in "Joé que calor" (fuck it's hot).  Which isn't to say there aren't Spanish kids with English names like Jenifer, Jonatan, Kevin, the problem is that they carry with them the stereotype similar to being from the Valley in L.A. or Essex in the U.K. if you know what I mean.

Then, there's the whole question of pronunciation.  Any English name with a "J" will give Spanish people fits because it doesn't exist so you can forget names like Jeffrey or Josh for a boy or Jane for a girl, while the English desire to combine vowel sounds make Spanish names like Mireia or Iago a nightmare for those relatives not from Spain.

So with seemingly eighty percent of Spanish and English names eliminated, you're left with a smaller pool to argue over with your partner.  But be careful: because even when you finally decide on a name, you have to make sure that it passes with the Spanish bureaucracy who have been known to refuse Sam and Katie due to them being shortened versions of Samuel and Katherine, and thus not allowed.

Shopping in Spain

Coming from the states, one of the most difficult adjustments was going from the land of twenty-four hour convenience to a country where shops and stores pretty much open when they feel like it, or as they say in Spanish cuando les da la gana.  The whole concept of Spanish service is a bit of an oxymoron, because unlike in America where everything is catered to the consumer and you can buy anything at anytime, here it's basically - if you need it that bad, you'll find to time to get it.  And, if you have a problem with that: tough, it is what it is. 

I remember getting really frustrated by this attitude my first year here.  I couldn't believe everything closed at the one time I was free during the week (lunch), or that come two o'clock on a Saturday most businesses were shut for the weekend, not to mention not being unable to go to the supermarket on a Sunday for some milk and bread when the only establishments open were the bars and churches.  How on earth did they expect a person to buy anything and keep their economy going? I thought as only an American could.

But over time I realized: whereas in the states I went to massive stores like Staples for stationary, Home Depot for hardware and Costco for my shopping, where the employees worked in shifts to provide maximum service; in Spain it was the small family run papeleria two doors down for pens and notebooks, the ferretería a block away for a hammer or screwdriver and the el mercado down the street for my groceries.  Most of them were run by a couple with maybe their kids pitching in, which made two in the afternoon time for a family lunch and the weekends a necessary break from their jobs.

Besides, the whole concept of shopping here was different to what I had previously know.  Back in Los Angeles, I'd hop in the car, drive a few kilometers, fight to find a place to park, and wander through places that were more warehouses than shops with ceiling high shelves of prepackaged, super-sized products sold in bulk at discount rates.  Then, when my cart was stacked high, I'd wait at the check-out counter where a clerk would mindlessly scan all that I had bought, before loading up the trunk of my car and returning home with enough food to feed an African village - much of it going to waste as the expiration date passed before I got a chance to eat or drink it.

Meanwhile in Barcelona, shopping began in the morning with the smell of baked pastries and bread in the air.  Taking carrito with me, I'd step outside and start the day with a coffee at a local bar before heading to the panadería for my freshly baked bread and croissants.  Next I'd walk to the local market that was full of stands that specialized in different foods.  There were multiple carnicerías for different cuts of meat, charcuterías for the many Spanish hams and cheeses, fruterías for fresh fruits and vegetables and pescaderías for just caught fish and seafood.  Each person shopping seemed to have their favorite one, as did I, and when my number was called, I'd step to the counter and receive a warm hello that would lead to a conversation about our families and the weather as the couple working tended to my needs, knowing what I liked and didn't like.  Then when the carrito was full with enough food to get me through the next few days, I'd head to the market bar for a small beer and a sandwich before returning home.

Even the fact that everything closed on Saturday afternoon had become a positive, because by forcing me to do all my shopping in the morning and not putting it off until the last minute like I did in the states, I now had the rest of the weekend free to enjoy: whether it be going to the beach in the summer or laying on the couch and watching TV in the winter.

Spanish Siestas

Ask someone to say one word when they think of Spain, and chances are it'll be "Siesta."  In fact every time I go back to the states, friends and family always ask me if the Spanish really take a snooze for lunch, and the look of disappointment on their faces when I tell them - "No" - betrays how ingrained of a myth it is.  The thought of escaping work for a quick shut-eye appeals to our romantic vision of Spain as a place where people take life at a more relaxing pace than they do in the states, and in many ways they do.  But, the truth of the matter is: Spaniards work on average 14% more than the rest of Europe so they don't have time to nap; although, given their production is the lowest, the more hours doesn't mean they necessarily work well.

The siesta is far from dead, however. "The mentality of it" (as I heard a Spanish expert describe it once) is still very much alive and  part of the country's psyche.  Originally born as a way to escape the blistering afternoon sun, it is more now about finding the time during a busy week to rest, relax and recharge.  It usually takes place on the weekends during the sobremesa (the time immediately after another Spanish tradition, a long, three-course weekend lunch) when all of your blood rushes to your stuffed belly and your head goes drowsy.  Eying the couch, all the programs on the television are documentaries about the ocean or bad B-movies, and it's easy to drift to sleep as you lay down, settle in and close your heavy eyes.

It doesn't need to be a long nap.  A shot of coffee with milk called a cortado before will ensure waking up thirty minutes later when the caffeine kicks in.  But if it's been a particularly draining week, then just let your brain and body shut down and start back up when it's ready, whether it's one or two hours later. With all the shops and stores closed during the late afternoon - you're not missing anything, and by the time you wake up, you'll feel refreshed and energized and ready for the night.  But even during the week, the siesta is never far from the Spaniards' thoughts, and it's not uncommon for a conversation to revolve around its benefits, while taking one of two thirty minute coffee breaks, showing that you don't need to sleep to apply the mentality behind it.