Anarchy in the S-P-A (in)

So we are headed into the final "push over the cliff" as Nigel Tufnel of Spinal Tap fame might say. In the past week we have hosted friends from Maine (it was really super-great to see them here), finished School Year Abroad (final meeting is tomorrow, students left last Wednesday), and met my dad in Barcelona (and brought him back to Zaragoza with us). Indeed this has been a week of "finishing up" things. Here are a few:

• SYA ended officially last Wednesday with a nice, long, faculty dinner followed by a 2 a.m. send-off of the bus filled with happy/sad students headed towards Madrid and their flight home. Then we had a VERY civilized 4 days to recover from the end of the year before faculty meetings.
• My yoga/pilates teacher (don't laugh, I really DID exercise all year) left the gym I attend, leaving me with one month of either starting with a new teacher, trying to work out with no one telling me what to do (harder than it sounds), or losing all the ground I gained in strength and flexibility this year. Maybe I'll just spend all day in the sauna.
• Sunday was the official end of Chaia's team season. (Oct-May). On Sunday morning we attended Chaia's final exhibition of Rhythmic Gymnastics. If you've never seen "Rítmica" before, it's kinda-sorta dance, kinda-sorta gymnastics, and loud music. And bright red plastic balls. Or hula-hoops. Anyone want to buy a slightly-used black leotard and dance shoes?
• Sunday was also the end of Ben's Soccer team season (every Saturday for EVER). The team, along with their parents, met at a tennis/swim/soccer/eating club for a day of fun, eating, swimming, soccer, and chaos. First, the kids played soccer together. Then the parents played against the kids. It was an interesting game, as the parents who felt like running around in the 90-degree sun were outnumbered by their kids, 15-5. Also, these kids are good, and I don't mean "kid-good." These 10-year olds might beat an average prep school thirds team. They certainly whipped us real good. then, we ate lunch. This is where the "chaos" comes in, and it deserves its own paragraph.

The Paragraph(s).

We sat down to lunch inside the club, in a big banquet room with a number of other groups celebrating birthdays and the coming of the HOT wind to Zaragoza (it has now officially replaced the COLD wind). One big table full of adults, and one big table full of ten-year old boys and their "lucky" sisters. So if you can imagine it, half of the parents had NO EYES on the kids.

Can you visualize where I'm going with this?

All year, we have been told that our children are models of good manners, and that people have never seen children so well behaved. On Sunday we discovered just how true this can be. Have you ever read Lord Of The Flies? The kids in the book were a Model-U.N. compared to the table directly behind us. First of all, you will have to imagine the noise inside the restaurant. For most Americans, the roar of a Spanish restaurant is unimaginable, but I'll do my best. Imagine for a moment that you are in a sports arena. Now make it the Boston Garden. You are on your feet, and the Celtics have just won the NBA championship for the 18th time (my prediction). Now imagine the cheering. Now imagine that there is a Who concert going on in the room at the same time. Now imagine that your waitress is reading you your choices for lunch from 20 feet away.

It's a little like that.

So on top of the inability to see or hear our kids, every once in a while our peripheral vision would catch a piece of bread flying across the table or a glass shattering all over Ben ("I am not making this part up", as Dave Barry would say). This lunch was what gave me the title for this entry, as I have never seen a more chaotic, messier meal in my life, and that includes the now-famous Loker School 6th-grade food fight of 1977 (I will neither confirm or deny my presence that day). Seriously, the table looked like a Jackson Pollock painting with bread crumbs on it. Our kids gave up early, ate quickly, and went outside do do something safer, like play in traffic. And in spite of my very best "teacher glare" (and I DO have one), I could do nothing to slow down the carnage at the kids' table. Seriously, I spent the last 20 minutes of the meal waiting for the boys to start throwing bread at ME. the best I was able to do was to grab one kid's hand as he was about to lob an empty mussel shell across the table. We finally sent them out to play more soccer (a tired puppy is a good puppy) before they started to light each other on fire.

By the way, the girls were picture-perfect. How is it, now, that every president of the US has been a man?

T-minus 6 weeks and counting...

It's unavoidable. It's coming on like a lumbering freight train, or like Austin Powers on a steamroller. I can see it in the distance, getting gradually closer, creeping on so that when you look at it, it doesn't seem to move, but if you take your eyes away for a few days and then look again it seems bigger, closer.

We are inching towards our return to the United States.

This week begins our "visit" period, that will take us from this Friday until a week before we fly out of Barcelona (volcano willing) for Boston. On Friday the Websters arrive from Bethel to spend a few days with us. It'll be exciting to have other Mainers see our city, and through their eyes we'll be able to see things for the first time again. Pilar, La Seo, the historical core of Zaragoza, the 9th century Aljafería (if you don't know what these things are, you have either to go back and read 9 months of blog or to google them), we will visit them all again in the next week. Then, we go to Barcelona to pick up my dad as he arrives by ship (did you know that people still take transatlantic cruises?). Two weeks later Andee's sister Trina and her family arrive from Houston, and will be with us until the 24th of June. Eight days later AerLingus carries us home.

So with that in mind, on some days more than others, I am starting to look at some little things more carefully, more slowly. Yesterday I saw, for the first time, a beautiful statue along the side of the street that goes past the "big" Corte Inglés (I say "big" that way because, to THIS small-town boy, BOTH of them are big). Honestly, I have crossed that street maybe 100 times in the past year, but I just saw the statue yesterday. Yesterday Andee and I bought bocadillos (sandwiches) for lunch and ate them sitting in the little park down the street from our apartment. And we noticed, again for the first time, that a street sweeping truck washes and sweeps the entire park.

It's amazing, the little details that you pick up, and equally amazing what you miss on a daily basis. Example: I know that most of the traffic lights on Paseo de la Independencia go from green to red, one after another, almost exactly 6 seconds apart (except for the one in front of Santa Engracia, which changes 4 seconds after the previous light). what I don't know is if our trash gets picked up on Saturday night, Sunday night, or neither one. I have tried to get as much as I can into this blog, and in photos, so that later I can look back and remember the details. The big stuff stays with you, but it's all of the little things that make an experience what it is (just ask anyone who has ever been on a Junior Point trip). So I think that in these, our final days in Spain, my focus will be to try and look at, write down, and photograph the little things. Things that, without warning, tend to slip out of your memory and are gone.

OK, this entry is a little too nostalgic for 10:15 in the morning. I'm going to work out, sauna, and teach class. In that order.

And I'm bringing my camera with me.

Oh, and I forgot....

A couple more things that might cost you an arm and a leg, and maybe a couple of fingers too. I forgot to mention:

• Toys. Toys are outrageously expensive in Spain. I mean real toys, board games, things like that. There are super-cheapo stores all over the place here, called (this is for real, and I have a hard time even typing it) Chinos. The "Chinese stores" are in every neighborhood, sell all kinds of "all-for-a-Euro" stuff, and as far as I can tell, all seem to be owned by Asians. the toys at these stores are inexpensive, and last about as long as it takes to get them to the park.
• Books. When I was a student I was amazed at how inexpensive books were in Spain. My, how times have changed. Childrens books seem to go for about 18-20 Euros (20-24 bucks). Guess we won't be collecting many of those this year.
• Sunscreen. This seems strange, but only because we take sunscreen for granted. I mean, you HAVE to buy it. When we went out to buy some, we nearly passed out from the sticker shock. A small container of sunscreen costs more here than a typical used car in the US. OK, maybe i exaggerate. It costs more than a CHEAP used car in the US. We bought the very least expensive tube for about 9 Euros (11 dollars). Friends, the price only goes up from there.

That's it for today. Tomorrow (or the next day) I will recount my adventures of today on a bicycle, that left me with sunburned arms and the knowledge of a secret garden paradise in the semi-desert of Zaragoza. Gee, could have used that sunscreen today, come to think of it...

Is a photo blog a "phlog?"

I thought that it might be fun to do a mostly-photo blog of some emblematic sights in Zaragoza. Maybe next I will do a "phlog" (don't know if this is a real word, but I like to say it-it makes me think of pirates) of places special to us (the kids' school, the local bakery, the amazing tapas places we go, etc).

So here goes:

This is the Paseo de la Independencia, one of the major streets of Zaragoza (and the one just outside of our apartment). If you can see the sidewalk, you can see that if you put the two sidewalks together they would be almost as wide as the street.

This is my lovely wife on Calle Alfonso, the main pedestrian avenue in the historical district. The building in the distance is the Basilica del Pilar. Immediately to our left is the best ice cream place in the city. And we should know...


The Plaza del Pilar is the big plaza of the city (the basilica is on the left here), and is often filled with people and pigeons. The tower in the distance is the other big church in Zaragoza, La catedral de La Seo.


Nuestra Señora del Pilar as seen from the Puente de Piedra (the Stone Bridge), the site of the original bridge across the Ebro river (by the way, the largest river in Spain).


This is a beautiful mudéjar (islamic-inspired Christian architecture) wall on the outside of the Cathedral. This pic was taken as far from the wall as one can get, as some "brilliant" city planner put a building up right in front of this treasure.

Another mudéjar tower. This one belongs to la iglesia de la Magdalena.


The cute little building (stuck in here between two tall, ugly buildings) houses School Year Abroad, our employer for the year. The school occupies only the "first" floor.



This is a typical street in El tubo, the old part of the city now full of tapas bars and little cafes. If you happen to find this street, from this exact view, walk ahead about 75 feet and turn right. you are at the best tapas place in the city, maybe in the universe.


A statue of Caesar Augustus, founder of our city. He also got the naming rights, and named it after...himself (Caesar Augusta-->Zaragoza).


The ever-present Corte Inglés department store. Most cities have at least one. We have two within a 5-minute walk of each other.


A couple of wicked good-looking (Bostonian for "very attractive") American quasi-tourists enjoying a coffee (and tea) at a little outdoor cafe on the Paseo de la Constitución. Note the bicycle wheels in the background...

Things to buy (and not)

So almost a year into this adventure known as Spanish living, I thought I would use an entry to talk about shopping and what it is like here. In some ways Zaragoza looks like a typical city, but in some ways it is VERY Spain. Here are some thoughts on spending money in our fair city:

Like any population center Zaragoza is full of stores of all kinds. the only type of store that is truly American and therefore challenging if not impossible to find is that magestic über-store of EVERYTHING that we like to call a pharmacy. Not that there aren't pharmacies in Spain; on the contrary, I've never SEEN a place with so many pharmacies. But pharmacies in Spain (always marked with a green cross) only sell pharmaceuticals. No candy, no toothbrushes, no greeting cards, and no aisles full of things like sewing kits, glue, and holiday tchochkes. Pharmacies sell cough drops, pills, and creams for your health. That's it.

What Zaragoza DOES have is an absurd number of shoe stores, banks, and laser hair-removal centers. If aliens landed on Earth and came to Zaragoza first, they would assume that they had just made contact with a planet full of rich, hairless natives with dozens of pairs of feet.

Shoes are a pretty good buy here, at least good shoes. Beautiful leather boots for 60 Euros, sk8r sneakers for 29 Euros, and if you go shopping in "Boutiqueland" (my name for our neighborhood) you can even find house slippers for 150 Euros. What a bargain! Between the four of us we have bought 9 pairs of shoes this year (including Chaia's very-specific rhythmic gymnastics shoes).

Museums are pretty inexpensive, and because this is

• a: A big city, and
  
• 2: a city that has been here since before the Romans,

there are many different museums worth visiting. I'm going to try and visit several more before the year is up. Evey one seems to have a special gem worth the admission.

Other things that are inexpensive here are things that you eat. Right now artichokes are going for 99 cents per kilo. In US measures and prices, that would be about 60 cents a pound. Fresh vegetables are all pretty cheap, as are fruits. We can't figure out how US customers continue to spend what we spend on spices, as a big container of garlic powder here costs about 85 cents. In Spain salt is pretty much given away, and not the ordinary salt. I'm talking about coarse sea-salt (that I have learned to love to use for cooking). An average cup of coffee (meaning incredibly good espresso) sells in every bar and café for about 1.20 Euros. You can eat a huge meal at an average restaurant (there are zillions of these too) for about 12 Euros (15 bucks). Olive oil is 2 Euros a liter, and bottled water (the water in Zaragoza tastes pretty bad) costs us a whopping 60 cents for 5 liters. Oh yeah, and pretty darn good bottles of wine cost between 4 and 6 Euros. The 10-Euro bottles would cost 25 bucks at home.

So what costs a lot? Anything that plugs in. Technology costs a fortune to buy (computers, tvs, digital anything). Cleaning supplies are pretty pricey too. Fresh milk (meaning milk that you have to drink within, say, six months of buying it; milk that has to be refrigerated) costs about the same as in the US, but it's hard to find. Gasoline costs about 6 dollars a gallon. In most cases clothes are outrageously priced, and you can't buy a CD for less than $20.

I'll stick with coffee, wine, and fresh artichokes steamed and dipped in sauce.

Want to know the price of something specific? Ask me! In fact, I would love to hear some of you questions about the year, or about Spain, or just about us. You can either post a question to the blog, or send me an email (alfordd@gouldacademy.org). I'll answer you as soon as I get back from shopping. I hear the mercado central has fresh shrimp tails for 4 Euros a KILO!

Yet another long weekend?

Some things are hard to get used to here, no matter how many times they happen. In the end, we are Americans. not Spaniards, and it doesn't matter how many jamones we buy or how much olive oil we consume (it would be embarrasing and shocking to write here just how many 1-liter bottles of olive oil we have used this year).

Here are a few:

Spain is a Catholic nation. I don't care WHAT the constitution says about separation of church and state; when St. George's Day is an official holiday in Aragón (as is St. Valero in Zaragoza), and weeks are spent off from school during the festival of Our Lady of the Pillar and Holy Week (leading up to Easter), the country is Catholic. Culturally Catholic for sure, as most people don't EVER go to church, but Catholic nonetheless. I thought WE had a lot of school vacations in the US. Here, on top of the saints' days and religious holidays, there are secular holidays as well. Cincomarzada, or March 5th, is a day commemorating a failed attempt ro conquer Zaragoza. therefore, no school. Constitution Day (Dec 6th), no school. May 1st (Labor Day)...you get the idea.

People bump into you on the street. A Lot. This probably comes from everyone studiously trying to avoid eye contact, and the concept that "personal space" ends 5 microns beyond the skin. This is OK, but as Americans we are used to apologizing for every little thing (Sorry I blocked you on the bus, sorry I stepped on your toe, sorry I ran over your pet hamster, etc). We're not as apologetic as Canadians, perhaps, but who is? In Spain it's another story. To get an apology you have to be either knocked to the ground or to bleed profusely. Otherwise people just keep moving. On one level I get it, but on a more visceral level, I just want to hear a perdón on occasion.

There is a different social contract in Spain when it comes to public cleanliness and littering. In the US, littering ranks just slightly below infanticide and cutting in line on the "bad behavior scale." Here, littering is what you do with your little pieces of trash when you are done with them (this includes cigarette butts, which outnumber people in Spain by 10-to-1). On the street, in cafes (seriously, people just throw their napkins on the floor rather than leave them on the counter), and especially on the beach, people leave their paper bits to be cleaned up be someone else. The reason thsi system works is because every night (and sometimes several times a day) street sweepers and washers come along and give a mega-cleaning to the city. By morning it is immaculate. This is true in restaurants and on beaches too. Spanish tax dollars pay for a lot of services (they should, as people here are taxed well above 50% of their income) and expect a lot too. As an American, however, I find it physically painful to throw stuff on the ground, and as a result I walk around with a lot of paper scraps in my pocket. Also, there is no recycling of aluminum here, and I can't make myself throw out the cans we have. I keep hoping that while we're here an entire system of recycling will develop and I won't have to commit the cardinal sin of throwing away a can.

Of course when I get home, I'll miss the coffee. And the bread. And the jamón. And the 9:30 am start time for school. And the cheap, delicious fruits and vegetables. And the......