El Mundo de los Negocios

For the past several weeks, I’ve been looking for something productive to do. Not that I don’t relish reading a good novel at a tiny local cafe or wandering down dozens of unfamiliar and charming streets . . . I just feel like God made me to help people, contribute to society, use my brain, etc. (And I'm going a little loco.) The thing is, working in Spain – even for free – has proven to be quite a challenge.

This has been my “office” in Sevilla

At first, I thought I could volunteer in some way – at a community agency or for the Church. Volunteering in Europe is quite different than in the U.S. They have many more governmental social programs in place, and in Sevilla, a strong community social network. Spanish women live longer than all the women in Europe – it’s partly due to their strong social ties throughout life.

So, volunteering at a church – sounds simple, right? The thing is, I’m not Catholic, I don’t have a church home in Sevilla, I don’t know what laypeople can do, and I DON’T SPEAK SPANISH. In my education and counseling classes (in the U.S.), we talk about the “hidden script” at K-12 schools. The hidden script has all the information about a school that all the kids know – things like: Mrs. Mullins is the toughest algebra teacher; it takes half as long to go from the gym to the cafeteria if you cut through the library; never sit at the picnic table under the tree at lunch – it’s the basketball team’s turf. Students who have trouble reading social cues sometimes never know the hidden script at their school and consequently have a huge disadvantage.

I’m like one of those socially-challenged students, but in Sevilla. I don’t know the hidden script. Do people “volunteer” at churches here? Where do I look for job postings? What jobs can an americana get in Sevilla? Do I need to be completely bilingual to have any chance? Does it look dumb to tuck my jeans into my boots?

Eventually I gave up trying to read the hidden script and I posted ads online advertising that I can give English lessons and/or take care of kids. Someone contacted me this week, but she wanted me to translate the emails between her business and a company she’s negotiating with in New York. I said, “No puedo . . . mi español no es tan bueno.” (I can’t . . . my Spanish isn’t that good.) Crazy woman still wanted to try me out and, sure enough, I was translating detailed Conditions of Sale into English this Friday.

I expect to just last a week in this job (a week is my probationary period), but it will have been a great learning experience. I’m working for a family-owned and operated business that makes and sells flamenco wear. The store is on flamenco row in Sevilla. (Well, if the streets weren’t so winding, it would be an actual row.) This place is hoping to sell their merchandise in the U.S. through a company in New York. They already work with a company in Japan. And, yes, they have a Japanese girl doing their Spanish-to-Japanese translations.


This whole situation is surreal. On Friday afternoon, I was sitting at a computer in the back room of their off-site office. In the next room, I could hear the iron sighing where the Mom and one of the sisters were making dresses. The Dad was sitting a couple feet away from me at his computer – working on the accounting no doubt. At one point, he put in a CD. As soon as the music began, I knew it was Semana Santa music. The songs played during certain Holy Week processions are famous in Sevilla.

The translations? Well, I fear that I bungled this business deal that the flamenco store is trying to seal with the NY company. I took Brad’s huge dictionary to consult, but there are about 4 verb tenses that I have yet to learn. So, I had to guess if había means there was, there had been, there will be, there would be or there could be. Yikes!

Luckily I’m going back to language school on Monday morning. I’m itching to learn some verb tenses!

La Cuaresma

When it’s the season of Lent in Sevilla, you know it. Walking around the city during the past few days, I’ve just missed several religious processions. A religious procession typically involves a large carved icon being carried through the streets on a wooden platform. Often, a small band takes part in the procession and there are always a lot of candles involved. During Holy Week (Semana Santa) numerous religious processions occur throughout Sevilla. Semana Santa in Sevilla is world-famous. I can’t wait!!

Announcements posted outside a church with information on upcoming processions

Several stores are also selling little white First Communion (Primera Comunión) dresses for Catholic girls. I’m not an expert on First Communion, but I think it’s a big deal in the Catholic Church, and it’s probably comparable to Protestant Confirmation and a Jewish Bar/Bat Mitzvah. I’m assuming First Communion happens on or around Easter for Sevillanas.

Primera Comunión dresses in a store window

Stores are also full of various items associated with Semana Santa: Catholic icons, special Semana Santa music, regalia for "penitents" and padded head coverings worn by the men who carry the wooden platforms on their heads.

I’ll go into much more detail about religious processions once we’ve experienced Semana Santa – this year it’s the 3rd week of March. This is such a big week in Sevilla that some rental companies kick out their tenants during that week; they can make hundreds of extra Euros on tourists staying in their properties. I think a lot of Sevillianos and Spaniards travel during Holy Week because everyone has the week off work. Brad and I, however, wouldn’t dream of leaving our apartment during the coolest week in Sevilla!

El Día de San Valentín

Como un pajarito ama volar
Hoy amo de mis queridos pensar

Happy Valentine’s Day! The holiday for friendship and love is certainly celebrated in Spain. I’ve seen special cards, flowers and chocolates for sale. On the news last night, they interviewed people on the street to ask them if they were in love.

In my family, Valentine’s Day is always a day to enjoy friends and family because it’s my brother’s birthday! I’m very lucky to have a super bueno brother like John; he is one of my biggest fans. Wish I could be there to have some b-day cake with you, John . . . Feliz Cumpleaños!

La Casa Blanca

Obama, favorito para repetir triunfo en las primarias de Maryland, Virginia y Columbia
--Headline on a Spanish news website

Ever since the New Hampshire primary in early January, I’ve been hearing all about the U.S. presidential candidates in the news, the Spanish news. When Hillary cried while answering a question in Portsmouth, the Spanish news reported on it; when Obama had a big win in South Carolina, the Spanish news reported on it; when Huckabee made some esoteric Biblical reference, well . . . you get the point.

I find it quite strange that Spaniards have ever even heard of the state of New Hampshire and that they know what a caucus is. I hardly know what a caucus is! Furthermore, how much has the American media covered the upcoming Spanish elections? Elections take place in Spain on March 9th! Before we moved to Spain, I hardly knew anything about Spain’s government, history, provinces or policies. (FYI, they have a monarchy, a President who governs the parliament – his/her party is elected, like in England – and the Spanish constitution is only about 25 years old.)

Zapatero, the President of the Spanish parliament

Watching the Spanish coverage of U.S. news and politics has made me consider how little the average gringo knows about world politics, and how great U.S. influence is in Spain. Obviously our influence is pretty strong all over the world – we’ve certainly brought some extra attention to ourselves in the past several years. It still surprises me how much the rest of the world knows about the U.S. Granted, there are many misconceptions. (For example, we went to a party last weekend and everyone was asked to bring a dish typical of their home country. The Spanish girl hosting the party told Brad and Rob, the two Americans, to bring hamburgers and fried chicken. That’s essentially what she thinks we all eat. Brad made "Chicken Bog" – only really eaten in the Pee Dee of South Carolina . . .)

Anyway, I am staying quite up to date on all the U.S. primaries, etc. by watching Spanish TV and selectively reading news online. It’s a refreshing break from watching U.S. political news coverage. By the way, we requested absentee ballots from the State of California, and they still haven’t arrived . . . We tried.

Hacer de compras

Grocery shopping is one of the delights of living in Spain. I go to the grocery almost every day (sometimes I go to two groceries in one day – when I can’t find an exotic item, like cheddar cheese, at the first place.) During the first few weeks of being a “Haus Frau” (housewife), I didn’t like my new role. Cooking and cleaning are not really my scene. But, now I’ve embraced my inner Haus Frau and I let my creative juices flow when I plan meals.

In Spain, I don’t have my precious cookbooks or go-to recipes written in my Mom’s handwriting. Our kitchen also doesn’t have a microwave, oven, toaster, blender, food processor, potato masher, heart-shaped ice cube trays, ramekins, decorative spreaders, etc. When we moved in, we even lacked some basics like glasses, a knife, a skillet, kettle and corkscrew. It’s not exactly Survivor: Sevilla Edition, but we do have to get resourceful when we cook.

Our local supermarket

The grocery has almost everything we could want because we are living in Western Europe after all. I think about my friend Evelyn, who lived in Bangladesh for a couple of years, a lot when I’m cruising around the grocery store. I bet she couldn’t find Pringles, ginger ale, ketchup or refrigerated spinach tortellini when she went shopping for food in Bangladesh. Of course, it’s not Pringles that make shopping fun – it’s the different stuff! I like how things like sticks of butter and bullion cubes come in different shapes here than they do in the US.

Pimiento para freir: looks like a big jalapeño; tastes like a zingy green bell pepper. This is one of the main ingredients in Gazpacho.

The first few times I went to the grocery, I had my Spanish-English dictionary clutched to my chest. Now, I can tell someone (in Spanish) where the cheese section is. And, I know the Spanish words for dill, peas, skim, fabric softener, lip balm, sour cream and hummus (it’s hummus). I still get a little stumped in the meat section because the cuts of meat are different from ours. You can also buy whole skinned or un-skinned rabbits and all sorts of gross stuff like pork fat, calf liver, chicken feet, etc. No, during my Southern upbringing, I never once purchased or ate any of these delicacies.

Part of a regional agriculture map

The cheapest way to shop in a foreign country is to buy what the locals buy. Luckily for us, that means buying yumminess. The inexpensive stuff includes: fresh bread, fresh seafood, olive oil, wine, cheese, cured sausages, onions, garlic, oranges (in the winter), green peppers, pork chops, nuts, and chicken feet. Actually, I’ve never priced chicken feet, but I imagine they are dirt cheap. I think most Spaniards buy their daily bread at local bakeries and supermarkets. Baking is not a big thing here. I know because I watch cooking shows. Stove-top cooking and using immersion blenders seem to be very popular. Olive oil, a.k.a. Liquid Gold, is naturally the basis of most recipes, especially salads, meat dishes and soups.

Every Spanish restaurant and home has one or a few of these: an aceitera, for olive oil

I can’t say that Brad and I have only cooked Spanish cuisine while living here. Sometimes things like peanut butter sandwiches, fried chicken, sweet tea or pancakes sneak into our diet. But, we usually have at least some chorizo, semi-cured cheese or marcona almonds on hand. A couple days ago, I bought some sweet Spanish strawberries at a fruit market. I got a half kilo – having no idea how many strawberries come in a half kilo. It was super cheap and the clerk called me guapa (hottie). Love it when they do that!

Tengo veinte y siete años

In the past week, I successfully completed my 27th year of life. I could get philosophical about age and experience, learning, gray hair, self-actualization, etc. Instead, I just want to talk facts. I want to remember how I celebrated my b-day in Spain.

When Brad and I hosted the Pictionary Fiesta over the weekend, one of my wonderful German friends sidled up next to me and said, “What are we gonna do for your birthday on Sunday?” Wow. A person in Spain knows it’s my birthday and she wants to help me celebrate it.

With Stefi and Christina

On Saturday, Brad and I slept late, and then we took a picnic down to the river for lunch. We met our German friends, Christina and Stefi and hung out with them for a few hours. That night, I told them I wanted to go out for drinks and dancing. We went to a bar decorated with Neo-Mudejar architectural elements and lots of gold Buddhas. Just after midnight, Christina made me close my eyes and she pulled out a gorgeous bouquet of tulips and a chocolate chip muffin with a lit tea light balanced on top. Then they sang Happy Birthday in English and Spanish. I was extremely touched.

Later we ended up at my favorite little club. The DJs usually play funky music (not indefensible “house” or “trance” music), and I never see tourists there. I’ve been there a few times with my friends, but Brad hasn’t ever joined us. It was nice to have a cute male dance partner for once.

On my actual b-day, Brad and I took it easy and had a great day. I opened birthday cards first thing that morning. (My cute card from Brad's Aunt Becky is in Spanish, and I understand all the words -- I must be making progress!) We spent a couple of hours over lunch, and I got (my fave) popcorn when we went to the movies that night. I think it’s best to ease into 27. In the dream world of Spain, that’s quite feasible.

Pictionary Fiesta

It’s Brad here. Neely’s on hiatus (she had quite a large volume of posts this last month!), so it falls to me to tell you about our latest adventure in the Iberian Peninsula.

This adventure happened close to home—actually, it happened at home, in our apartment in Seville. Surprisingly, we do sometimes stay in Seville.

Anyway . . . we had a party, our first house party! Despite our lack of long-time friends in Seville, our party was surprisingly well attended. The US ambassador to Spain couldn’t make it, but we did have Neely’s German friends from the language school and the other researchers that I know from the archive (the same ones that I have breakfast with in the mornings). Some of the researchers are permanent fixtures in the archive; they’ve been here for months or years. But some of the others are only in Seville for a period of weeks or days. So there’s always a new face or two around. At our party we had a few Colombians, a Chilean, and a few new gringos (in addition to the usual mix of Spanish and French).

from left to right: Enrrique (from Chile--Bev says he looks like Jesus), Magdalena (Spain), Vanesa (France), Caroline (France), and Rob (U.S.)

Researching in a foreign country can be an isolating experience. There aren’t that many opportunities to get to know other people when you spend your days reading old manuscripts by yourself. That’s why I wanted to throw the party, and that’s also why every single person that I invited actually showed up! Our tiny little apartment was bursting with over 15 people.

It was a bit cramped

Neely and I had a little bit of food for folks to munch on (“para picar,” or “to pick at”). A little ham and salami (I do love pork!), some cheese and membrillo (quince paste . . . mmm), even some dill dip “a la Pee Dee” (as Neely likes to call it) with Bugles chips (can you believe that they sell those in Spain!?!). And we found a recipe for a drink called “Agua de Sevilla” (Water of Seville) that was gone almost as soon as the first guests arrived. I offered Water of Seville to one guest, and he asked if that was some kind of special tap water.

Around 1:00 a.m., we played Pictionary. One of our friends from the archive owns the Spanish version of the game, and she brought it with her. The clues were in Spanish, so we usually had to take a few minutes to consult our Spanish-English dictionary before we could begin. As the artists drew, the other team members were screaming guesses in every language spoken in western Europe. Complete chaos . . . I hope the neighbors weren’t too annoyed.

It's a mountain . . . a whale . . . snowstorm . . . apple pie . . . a carpenter . . .

Since Neely and I are such fun people and amazing hosts (and since archival researchers are so desperate for human interaction), the fun lasted until 3:30. It was a great success; a good time was had by all.