Quiero un zumo de naranja

Valencia is officially the 3rd-largest city in Spain, but with less than a million people, it’s only a tiny bit bigger than Sevilla. The “autonomous community” of Valencia is in eastern Spain on the Mediterranean. Valencia is famous for paella and oranges. Its capital, Valencia, is a fabulous mixture of old and new, and we had a great time there.

In the Plaza de la Reina

Downtown Valencia

Brad’s grant organization hosted a 3-day conference/retreat in Valencia last week – almost all expenses paid. I tagged along of course! Of all the diverse autonomous communities (which are comparable to states) in Spain, I’ve really only explored the centrally-located Comunidad de Madrid and environs and, of course, Andalucía, where Sevilla is the capital. Anyone who’s traveled around Spain will tell you that each autonomous community is quite distinct – the food, the people, the history, the geography, climate, music and the mentality.

In our short time in Valencia, I found that most people were quite friendly. A few locals even struck up conversations with me, asking if I’m vacationing, recommending spots to visit, etc. This never happens to me in Sevilla when I’m talking to strangers. I got to explore Valencia on my own for our first couple of days because poor Brad was in sessions all day. Exploring a new city alone = pure joy.

And what a change this visit was compared to my days alone in Madrid when we first arrived to Spain. When I was packing for Valencia, I didn’t even consider packing my English-Spanish dictionary. How liberating to strike out in a Spanish city, and know that I can get myself around just fine. Even if I didn’t know a specific word in Spanish, I knew how to ask a local for an explanation, and I knew that I’d understand.

The accent in Valencia is also soooo much clearer than the Andalucían accent that I often struggle to understand down here. Some Valencianos speak Valenciana, one of the 5 or 6 regional languages in Spain – other than “castellano” (or Spanish as we know it). Valenciana is mostly spoken in the little pueblos outside of the capital, so I only had to speak what I already know.

The facade of the Ajuntament (City Hall); the bat is a symbol of Valencia

During my time in Valencia, I toured the cathedral, saw the old silk exchange and the markets, went to the beach (my first time on the Mediterranean!), saw the fine arts museum, strolled through the parks and shopped. Brad got to do some of those things, but, not surprisingly, he was expected to attend most of the sessions for the scholars. I think we’ll both remember the beautiful architecture downtown, Agua de Valencia, obscene gothic stone carvings at the Lonja, the giant Gulliver playground, mini fried squid, a delectable chunk of local pumpkin cake and the best kebab sandwich ever made (most delicious when consumed at 2:30 am).

Cathedral, home to the Holy Grail. Allegedly Jesus' cup from the Last Supper is inside one of the chapels here. The cup I saw is pretty blinged out, but my audioguide made a good argument for why it’s truly the Holy Grail. Who knows?
Museu de Belles Arts (Museum of Fine Arts), viewed from across the Turia. The Turia is the old riverbed that curves through the middle of the city. After they diverted the Turia River in the 1960s, they made the riverbed into a beautiful landscaped park – complete with running paths, numerous playgrounds and the City of Arts and Sciences.
Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències (City of Arts and Sciences); home to a performing arts center, aquarium and more; only about 10 years old.
Detail on the Mercado Colón (Columbus Market)

At night, we got to hang out with some cool people – among them was: the Spanish guy who directs the program in Andorra (teeny country sandwiched between Spain and France), the three people who have the grant to pursue their MBAs in Madrid, a mother of two from California who studies the Sierra Nevada in Granada and the Sierra Nevada in California (she made me promise to be a high school guidance counselor), a really nice guy who researches fluid dynamics in Barcelona, a girl from Michigan who teaches English in Madrid and dates a Spaniard, a crazy dude who can drink Spanish cider by pouring it down his face and catching it in his mouth, etc., etc.

It’s cool to be surrounded by smarties, even if some are socially awkward. There are always a few fun people in the crowd, who you can learn from and laugh with – they’re people who you feel like you’ll see again some day and be glad.

"Tus dolores son mis penas"

Over the course of Semana Santa, Brad and I saw 16 pasos. We were paso experts by the end of the week. Some people try to stake out a spot near the main route to the cathedral – this way they can see every paso on its way to the cathedral. I say “near” the main route because you have to spend hundreds of Euros to get on the actual route. Every paso goes down La Carrera Oficial (the official path), which includes several blocks and a couple of big plazas leading to the cathedral. To sit along the Carrera Oficial, however, you must pay to get one of the chairs or bleacher seats set up by the city.

Plaza de San Francisco filled with bleachers

But who wants to sit in the same spot and watch paso after paso all night? Brad and I walked all over central Sevilla to watch the pasos exit the neighborhood churches. And, sure enough, we were squeezed into plazas and streets with hundreds of other Sevillanos and about zero tourists. It was so cool to watch glimmering pasos come out of the nearby churches that we’ve passed by for months and the churches where we’ve gone to mass.

Detail of a paso

One really special neighborhood paso was El Gran Poder (The Great Power.) This paso happens to be during the Madrugá and it is very famous. To get a good spot, we got to Plaza San Lorenzo at midnight and stood outside waiting for 2 hours. Just before the paso left the church at 2 am, all the street lights in the plaza were turned off. The crowd hushed. Then the Cristo paso slowly emerged from the church in complete darkness. All you could see were the red candles glowing inside the huge lanterns on the paso. All you could hear was the heart-wrenching saeta a woman on a balcony. It was definitely one of the spine-tingling moments of Semana Santa.

El Silencio (The Silence), the oldest hermandad in Sevilla, also has its paso during the Madrugá. This hermandad is based at one of my favorite churches in our neighborhood, and we actually went there for a beautiful Easter service. While waiting on El Silencio to pass, we were trying to keep warm (it was 4:30 am by this point) and we were satisfying our hunger with some candy and a chorizo sandwich.

Luckily for us, the most popular – and largest, with 2500 Nazarenos – paso, La Macarena, passed by the street where we were waiting. The Virgin of La Macarena is essentially a rock star in Sevilla. Every tiny crusty little bar in the city has a huge framed photo of her tear-stained face. Just as the Virgin passed by, the women on a balcony above the street threw a huge basket of rose petals onto her palio. Thousands of white rose petals showered the Virgin’s paso as it swayed down the dark street. What a stunning display of veneration.

Staying awake for El Silencio was totally worth it. This hermandad had the most dignified and reverent paso we saw that week. The Nazarenos and Penitentes wore all black robes and hoods, and kept silent throughout the paso. Their symbol, a Jerusalem cross, was on every silver staff, candle and wooden cross. The only music at this paso was from a lovely woodwind trio that occasionally played a short mournful melody. The Virgin paso in El Silencio was extraordinarily beautiful. On the underneath side of the canopy on the paso, was a beautiful embroidered design, and little tassels and silver balls hung down from the edges of the canopy. To the right and left of the Virgin, silver urns mounted on the paso were filled with sweet peas.

The cross of El Silencio

Not every paso was as moving and reverent as those during the Madrugá. Some of the gypsy Triana pasos were a bit tacky. Even Sevilla has rednecks. During some pasos, you saw things like a hooded Nazareno walking with his girlfriend, who was wearing red patent leather heels and tight low-rider white jeans and smoking a cigarette. Sick. Some of the more rag-tag pasos had lots of random people in street clothes chatting with the members of the hermandad who are supposed to by anonymous. The first paso we saw (on Palm Sunday) was full of teenagers and their annoying friends there to watch. However, at that paso, we saw a woman sing a saeta to the crucified Cristo and I thought it was the most Sevillano thing I’d ever experienced.

La Estrella, A Nazareno carrying the cruz de guia

Another super cool tradition during Semana Santa is women wearing mantillas! A mantilla is a long piece of black lace that goes over a comb in the woman’s hair and down her back. Any woman who wears a mantilla wears a knee-length black dress, black stockings and black heels. Nice jewelry and black lace gloves are typical accessories. The outfit is worn only on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday because these are mourning clothes. You also see many men in dark suits on Thursday and Friday of Semana Santa.

Women wearing mantillas

You may be wondering what happens if it rains during Semana Santa. Well, it rained this year – on Holy Wednesday. It was a sad day in little churches all over the city. If there is even the threat of rain, pasos cannot go out because the platforms would be ruined. All nine pasos on Wednesday were cancelled. The news coverage of hermandades waiting inside churches showed countless grown men crying as well as many women and children.

The hermandades prepare for this all year – the band, the costaleros, the Nazarenos and Penitentes. They can’t reschedule the paso for another day because there is a strict schedule kept at the cathedral and every day of the week there are several pasos. If a paso is late in arriving at the cathedral on its day, the hermandad is fined. I’ve never seen Sevillanos being as punctual as they are during Semana Santa.

A child dressed to walk (or be carried) in a paso

Overall, Semana Santa was a week that fully engaged all of my senses. After that first bewildering paso, I thought, “This is interesting, but it has no connection to my faith whatsoever.” By the end of the week, I started to get it, and I was brought to tears with one of the haunting songs played by a brass band during Santo Entierro. Some people say Sevillanos are idol-worshippers, but I appreciate their rich religious tradition of Semana Santa. I think my Sevillano friend explained it best, he said that Catholics focus on the suffering of Holy Week, whereas Protestants focus on the resurrection.


On Holy Saturday, the Pietà

Sure enough, during our Easter Service, the Cristo and Virgin pasos were situated just behind the altar. All the candles on the pasos were lit and the images were still breathtaking, but the carved face of Mary was still weeping even though Jesus had risen.

Semana Santa

During the past 7 days, Semana Santa thundered, blazed, crept and wailed through Sevilla. Semana Santa traditions are hundreds of years old, and Sevilla cherishes the traditions more than any other place in Spain. Thousands of Sevillanos participate in the processions through the streets and thousands more are there to photograph, stare, cheer, sing and mourn.

A paso with the Giralda of the cathedral in the background

During one of the processions (or pasos), a family from Charleston happened to stand behind Brad and me; at one point, the kid asked, “Why are there so many people here?” They were Southern Baptist and a bit unclear on why Semana Santa in Sevilla is such a big deal. I’m sure the average American has no idea what happens during this incredible week – I sure didn’t. (Of course, the average American doesn’t spend thousands of dollars to stay in Sevilla during the most expensive week of the year . . . but that’s another issue.) I want to explain exactly what happens during Semana Santa. Warning: I’m a complete outsider, so some of my info will be inaccurate.

~Terms~

Autos Sacramentales: public religious demonstrations performed by laypeople with the blessing of the Roman Catholic Church
Semana Santa: “Holy Week” – the week from Palm Sunday to Easter when numerous autos sacramentales occur in Spain
- Andalucía (in southern Spain) observes Semana Santa with way more demonstrations than the rest of Spain; some cities may just have one procession all week – Sevilla has the biggest Semana Santa by far
Paso: “passage” – the “procession” or “parade” so to speak, as well as the actual platforms that are carried in the procession
- each procession has 1 to 3 pasos (some pasos are centuries-old)
- the paso/procession goes from its church (the salida) to the Sevilla cathedral and back to the church (the entrada) – this always takes a few hours, for example: a paso may leave its church in Triana (across the river) at 2:15 am, and get back to its church after noon.
El Misterio: “The Mystery” – a paso with a depiction of one of the mysteries of the passion
- often the first paso
- these pasos are super cool because it’s like a moving, gilded Bible story


The “Misterio” of Montesión depicts Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.
“. . . He went to the Mount of Olives, . . . and His disciples also followed him. When He came to the place, He said to them, ‘Pray that you may not enter into temptation.’ And He was withdrawn from them about a stone’s throw, and He knelt down and prayed, saying, ‘Father, if it is Your will, remove this cup from Me; nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done.’ Then an angel appeared to Him from heaven, strengthening Him.” -Luke 22:39-43
Yes, that’s a real olive tree that the disciples are sleeping under


The “Misterio” of Montserrat is called “the conversion of the good thief”

"Then one of the criminals who were hanged blasphemed Him, saying, 'If You are the Christ, save Yourself and us.' But the other, answering, rebuked him, saying, "Do you not even fear God, seeing you are under the same condemnation?' . . . Then he said to Jesus, 'Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.' And Jesus said to him, 'Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.'" -Luke 23:39-43

El Cristo: “The Christ” – a life-size wooden sculpted depiction of Christ, usually depicted as crucified on the cross or carrying the cross
- most pasos have the Cristo paso as the first one

Las Penas: El de Jesus de Nazareno – you can see the clouds of incense in this video

El Cristo de las Almas

El Palio de la Virgin: a paso carrying “La Virgin” – a life-size wooden sculpted depiction the virgin Mary, always crying or horror-stricken, often carrying a hankerchief or rosary
- second or third paso

- the most popular virgin is La Virgin de la Macarena – some people even shout “gaupa!” at her because she is thought to be so beautiful.

Virgin del Dulce Nombre (Virgin of the Sweet Name) being consoled by St. John

Virgin de Montserrat

Cruz de guia: the cross that is carried to lead the procession

Hermandad/Cofradia: “brotherhood” – an autonomous group of laypeople (women are allowed into brotherhoods as of the 1990s) who organize and participate in pasos
- hermandades are typically associated with a local church
- everyone in the hermandad pays dues
- the oldest hermandad in Sevilla was founded in the 14th Century
Nazarenos: “Nazarenes” – members of the hermandad who walk in pasos
- dress in colored robes with pointed hoods and typically carry a large candle
- some pasos have numerous children as Nazarenos (some so young that they’re holding on to Mommy’s hand)

Nazarenos

Penitentes: “Penitents” – members of the hermandad who walk in pasos behind the Nazarenos
- dress in colored robes with hoods; carry a wooden cross --often walk barefooted and/or tape several crosses together in order to pay more penance

Penitentes

A few words on Nazarenos and Penitentes . . .

---> The hoods . . . I know you’re all thinking KKK. Yes, it’s creepy for an American to see that. However, pointed hoods have been used by religious penitents for centuries; it’s truly unfortunate that an evil group like the KKK took this religious dress from the medieval church.
--->They are not all necessarily believers. That’s right, some of the people who pay dues to the hermandad and walk (sometimes barefoot!) in pasos may not believe in the Church, Jesus, the whole deal. BUT, that tells you how important the cultural and social tradition of Semana Santa is to Sevillanos. In some pasos, you see thousands of Nazarenos and Penitentos – that doesn’t mean they all go to church. (Only little old ladies go to church.) We have an agnostic/atheist Sevillano friend who’s a member of a hermandad because his Mom makes him. I’m sure that some of the members of the hermandades are serious Catholics and they are truly praying and asking for God’s forgiveness for their sins.
---> Nazarenos and Penitentes wear their hoods and robes when they go to and from home during Semana Santa to keep their identity secret. The idea is, to truly be penitent, you do not show the world how penitent you are, you only show God.

Costaleros: the guys who carry the pasos/platforms on the backs of their necks; depending on the size of the paso, 20 to 40 costaleros are under it
- during the paso, one group of costaleros will get a break and a new group will stand in for a while; it’s still an incredibly exhausting job

Typical rough-around-the-edges costaleros – they wrap fabric around their heads, with padding at the nape of their necks

Hermandad Mayor: “Elder brother” – the guy in the brotherhood who directs the costaleros (they can’t see under there and they have to navigate these huge pasos in and out of churches and down very tiny windy streets)
Mecer: “to rock, sway” – since pasos are carried by men not machines, the paso itself sways as it “walks” – it looks as if the Cristo and the Virgin are “walking” down the street
Saeta: a spontaneous and emotional religious song sung to the Christo or the Virgin paso
- saetas may be sung by men, women or children as the paso passes by – often the singer sings from a balcony above the paso
- the style of a saeta is very flamenco – fitting because the song is about pain and suffering associated with the passion


Vera Cruz: You can’t see the paso in this video. Just listen for the woman singing a saeta during this paso -- this was a couple of blocks away from our apartment.

La Madrugá: “Early morning” – from midnight until daybreak on Maundy Thursday, there are some very special pasos
- during La Madrugá, there are pasos to symbolize staying awake and keeping watch for Jesus on the night when his disciples fell asleep in the Garden of Gethsemane
- famous pasos of La Madrugá: La Macarena, El Gran Poder, El Silencio and Esperanza de Triana

All of this info only tells you the beginning of the story, but it’s impossible to describe Semana Santa without knowing these terms. Oh! I forgot one last term that is necessary to understand the meaning of Semana Santa:
Torrijas: delicious sweet made only during Semana Santa – tastes like a piece of french toast soaked in honey

In the next post, I’ll share some of our experiences during this magical week.

Feliz Pascua!

Santo Entierro

The cross has triumphed over death!

Viernes Santo

La Quinta Angustia

This is what we've been doing all week.

Nações Diferentes

Lisbon at night

Portugal is now on my list of countries I’ve visited! Over the weekend, Brad, Amy and I journeyed to Lisboa (Lisbon). As far as cities go, Lisbon is sexy. It’s beautiful, comfortable with itself, diverse, historic and completely unpretentious. The geography of the city reminded us of San Francisco – it’s very hilly (with trolleys to tote you up the hills) and perched on a huge body of water by the sea (the wide end of the Tagus River or Rio Tejo). Although Lisbon is just a 6-hour bus ride from Sevilla, it is quite different from Andalucía. Portugal has one of the oldest national borders in the world, and the Portuguese are very proud of that.

An unofficial symbol of Lisbon: the yellow funicular

While in Portugal, we tried not to speak Spanish, because that can come off as being ignorant or disrespectful. When Spanish slipped out however, no one was ever rude about it and they typically understood Spanish pretty well. Brad tried some of the Portuguese he learned in grad school, but his accent was usually met with raised eyebrows because he learned the language from a Brazilian. After my time in Lisbon, I identify myself as one of the people who think that Portuguese is one of the most beautiful languages.

During our visit to Lisbon, we stayed in the Bairro Alto (high neighborhood) and we were in the heart of Lisbon nightlife. After midnight, this grungy neighborhood becomes a huge street party, where you can meet lots of interesting characters and get offered lots of hashish. Every street has countless teeny tiny bars and restaurants to keep your glass full and provide plenty of entertainment. Young Lisboetas especially love chupitos (shots) and the three of us tried quite a few. Over drinks, we met Brits, Portuguese, a Pole and a Palestinian. One night, the guy from Palestine and a guy from the Azores took us to a dance club (it was called Xanax or something like that). Poor Brad stuck it out with Amy and me until 4am.

You may be wondering if we saw Lisbon in the daylight . . . we did! With all the hills around the city, there are some great spots for amazing views. We went up to Castelo Saõ Jorge on the highest hill in Lisbon and we could gaze at the entire city.

View from the castle

We also took various forms of public transport to get to Belém, an area on the Western waterfront. Belém has many parks, the president’s home, a 14th Century Jeronomite Monastery and a famous cafe that makes delectable custard tarts. We certainly didn’t want to miss that!

In front of the Monastery
My art shot of the Torre de Belém
The tower (behind us) was built in the 16th Century as protection for the port of Lisbon

Amy had to leave on Saturday to visit her old haunts in Madrid for a day, so Brad and I did some more exploring. We walked down to the river (the old wharves) for lunch. The food is fantastic in Lisbon, by the way. We were thrilled to have international dishes that involve sauces – things you simply can’t get in Sevilla.

Enjoying a Caipirinha (very popular in Lisbon) at lunch
The river

We also did some shopping in the vibrant downtown area. The stores were much more fashionable and varied than anything I’ve seen on this side of the border. And Lisbon has less than 600,000 inhabitants – that’s smaller than Sevilla! I can’t believe that the city is that small because it is quite cosmopolitan in some areas, and the different parts of the city have such distinctive personalities. It feels like 2 million people live there.

The aesthetic of the city also shows that quite a few residents care about architecture and art. Countless buildings have tiled facades with detailed iron balconies. (The oldest tiles, or azulejos, in Lisbon came from Sevilla.) I didn’t see one park or public space without a cool modern sculpture or antique-looking fountain. Even the bus station was designed beautifully. There’s a comfortable blending of historic and modern throughout the city.

In central Lisbon

Bus station
Tiled buildings

Brad and I could not leave Portugal without sampling some Port, so we spent an afternoon at a place where you sample Port. Quite enjoyable.

On our last night in Lisbon, we wanted to have one last meal of the delicious Portuguese-fusion cuisine. We found a tiny nook, and we befriended a couple waiting outside for their table. They were speaking Spanish, so we jumped in. The guy was from England, the girl from Valencia, and they’d met in Mexico City. (Lisbon was full of Spaniards who were on their Semana Santa holiday.) The couple invited us to dine with them, and we had a great conversation about languages, traveling and culture – my favorite topics as of late. Spaniards love to talk!

One of the symbols of Lisbon

To get back to Sevilla, Brad and I had return bus tickets for an 11am bus. The only other bus left Lisbon that night and got to Sevilla at 3am. We snagged a taxi outside our hotel, but several roads downtown were closed for Palm Sunday. We zoomed across the city – all the way to the eastern bus station. We jumped out of the taxi with about 4 minutes to spare and said “Obrigada,” (thanks) to the driver. As we frantically ran from platform to platform, we realized that there was no Sevilla bus there. With resignation, we slumped ourselves onto a bench and began to whine and moan about our terrible situation. That was when the bus to Sevilla pulled up in front of us . . . 30 minutes late. That was our first religious experience on Palm Sunday.

The bus ride to and from Lisbon made our trip especially lovely. We passed through hundreds of kilometers of idyllic pastoral landscapes – rolling hills with sheep and cows grazing, lots of wildflowers, cork trees, short leaf pines and storks nesting on top of tall posts scattered throughout the landscape. All the way home, Brad and I daydreamed about having a farm in rural Portugal some day.

Our second religious experience on Palm Sunday was in Sevilla. We arrived to a completely different city, first of all. All of Sevilla is breathing Semana Santa this week. Brad and I went out to watch our first jaw-dropping religious procession late last night. Tell you ‘bout it soon.

Mi amiga Amy

At the river with the Isabel II bridge in the background

On Friday, I got cut loose from my little translating job. What a relief! They may call me after the April Feria (when they’re busiest), but they really just needed me for a couple of weeks this go ‘round. The timing was great because our good friend Amy arrived over the weekend and I’ve had time this week to enjoy her.

During my freshman year at college, Amy lived in the dorm room next to me. We’ve been tight ever since. This week we even acted like we were still in college a few times. (Especially yesterday when our CRAZY Girl’s Night Out ended around 4am.) Amy spent a semester in Madrid during college, so she’s well aware of how awesome this country is. We’ve had the pleasure of introducing her to some special Sevilliano stuff that she never got to enjoy. For example: picos (little crackers you get with your tapas), our cute local bar, Elefunk, tinto de verano, salmorejo, ron con miel and Semana Santa preparations.

We’ve also enjoyed those fundamentally Spanish things like the game show Pasapalabra, ubiquitous man mullets, plazas and tortilla española. Amy has a way of charming everyone she meets, so our experiences at our usual haunts are even more fun with her. One normally-grumpy waiter gave her a nice menu to take home and one bartender gave her a detailed description of how he cuts his own mullet.

Enjoying some Cruzcampo At Bar Alfalfa

We went to mass at our local church on Sunday, and we got to see several platforms and statues that are being stored inside the church for Semana Santa. These platforms are incredibly ornate, covered in silver, and filled with candles and a life-size statue of Jesus or Mary usually. Quite impressive. During the actual pasos (processions) I doubt Brad and I will be able to get anywhere near these platforms because every street will be filled with people.

A tiny portion of one platform

Amy explored the entire city while Brad was at the archive and I was at class. She has a few more days here, and we might just take a trip somewhere . . . Why not? We know for sure that Amy has made an impression on Sevilla.

Huele bien

In the past few days, the heavenly perfume of orange blossoms has begun to permeate the streets of Sevilla. The flowers smell something like a combination of tea olive and honeysuckle. When you pass through little plazas surrounded with orange trees, you smell this delicious fragrance – it stays with you even after you’ve turned the corner and walked down another tiny street.

Ella trabaja fuerte para el dinero

The strangest thing happened: I survived my first week of work in Spain. Let’s talk about the differences between my job here and all of my jobs in the U.S. The biggest difference is obviously the language. I have discovered that it’s not my looks that make me charming – it’s my witty, but polite conversation. I can usually win over anyone at a new job because I’m fast on my feet, interested in other people and nice. In Spanish, I’m awkward, slow and probably rude.

During the first few days of any new job in the U.S., the new hire always gets a warm welcome from everyone and you are the center of benign curiosity for a while. Then, it’s up to you whether you get on everyone’s nerves or totally screw up. At my job in Sevilla, all I got this week were wary glances from the employees. The 2 or 3 people to whom I was introduced acted almost surly. Overall, I feel in the way and out of the loop. I also feel excluded because I may be the only person there who is not part of the big family that owns the business.

Every time I start a new job, there’s a lot to learn – how to operate their software systems, what the company does, what is my role in the company, who I answer to, etc. At this job, all of the learning takes place in Spanish! Even the buttons on Microsoft Word are in Spanish. I spent 20 minutes figuring out where the all-caps key was on the keyboard! I’m so clueless. Sometimes the dueña (propieter), who’s the main boss and the mom, gives me a serious task and then walks away to sew a ruffle onto a dress or something. I know the task is serious because she had a serious face when she told me what to do, but I only followed about ¼ of what she said. So scary!

So far, I’ve mostly been translating emails from Spanish to English and vice versa. Unfortunately their business Spanish is extremely deferential, polite and technical . . . phrases like, “it would nice if you could contact us about our catalog and designs at your earliest convenience in order to help us better serve you and your company.” In class, I’m still learning, “I went to the park yesterday.” One day, I translated an email from the U.S. into Spanish. I gave it to Estrella to read – so that she could understand the questions in it and tell me how to respond. She pointed out a million mistakes in my Spanish. Then, she took the translation into the other room (the sewing room) and I heard her mocking my Spanish to her mom and all the girls in there. Everyone was howling with laughter.

If my quick wit can’t make people at work laugh, at least my stupidity can.