Tag: Spain

Something like a County Fair in Santander, España

Published on by E L BLeave a comment

A little over a week ago, I had just arrived in London. My friend and I were trying to decide where to go for brunch. She suggested Whole Foods. I told her I didn’t come all the way to London to go to Whole Foods. While I doubt most Americans in London (unless they have made the decision to live there) are rushing to Whole Foods in Kensington or Westminster, a tiny part of me regrets the decision to snub the familiar.

See, last night, in Spain, I went to a carnival. I’m talking tilt-a-whirl, cotton candy, toss-a-ring-win-a-prize, full-out carnival. What could be more American?

The Feria de Santiago is in Santander as part of the city’s annual Semana Grande. The main event of the fair is, in fact, bull fighting, but I did not witness that part of the event. No, I went with my host family and two girls who live next door to the carnival. It reminded me of the county fair that my brother and I would go to in my dad’s hometown when we’d visit our grandparents in Kansas for the summer. All that was missing were the cornfields and the exhibit of prize hens. But they had some other things at the carnival in Santander.

Latin pop blasted from every speaker. Everyone happily bopped along to the tune of “Asejeré” (a.k.a. – The Ketchup Song) and songs by Chino y Nacho.

Rollercoasters and swinging ships had names like “Montanita Rusa” and “Super Ratón”. I wondered if the people who manufacture these rides ship them off all-over the world, and simply change the names to fit the language of whichever country they are going to. Probably so, because they felt a whole lot like the same bumpy, dizzying, and questionably secure rides that I know and love.

Even the games were pretty much the same, except for one, which I think is genius. Instead of rows of dartboards or ring toss, one stand that was packed to the gills with various electronics, appliances, and anything else one may want (I had my eye on a bicycle). Older patrons sat in rows of chairs in front of the stand, playing bingo. Win the game, win a flat-screen. Knowing the reputation that carnivals typically have (and this one had children packed into booths selling tickets) I’m not going to wonder where all these prizes came from, but they were there for the winning!

Along with all the common confectionaries, you could find slices of coconut kept fresh under a constant drip of cool water.

There was no beer for the adults (shocking, I know), but there were multiple stalls outfitted with plastic grapes and great bubbling vats of sweet local wine. For €3 you could get a tall shot-glass full of the stuff, with a galleta as garnish.

They even had their own version of fried dough on a stick – churros, of course. Chocolate churros, churros filled with clotted cream, churros as long as ropes, you name it.

If you were really feeling European, you could go to the carnival’s pop-up restaurant, complete with waiters.

And that’s only what was on offer on the fairgrounds. Across the lot, tents were set up to display the food favorites of each region in Spain. The Associación de Castellanos y Leónes en Cántabria had out a spread (f.y.i. – Castilla y León is a region just north of Madrid, while Cántabria is the region Santander is in). Could you imagine there being, say, an Association of Texans in Colorado? There would be a public outcry! That just goes to show you how proud and deeply connected Spaniards are to their home regions.

I ate a traditional tortilla con jamón at the stand representing the region of Aragon. This tortilla was made of fried potato, a bit different than the soft, chewy flour tortillas that are the norm in Texas. But that is exactly my point.

My point is, while I’ve been going to carnivals all my life, this one was different. It’s impossible to ignore the American influence that has impacted countries all over the world thanks to globalization. Fairs and carnivals are actually native to European culture, which Americanization has taken and slung right back across the Atlantic with the U.S.A’s own unmistakable imprint. At the Feria de Santiago, Mickey Mouse and SpongeBob abound. However, even with things as trivial as carnivals it is clear that Spaniards have maintained their own cultural touches.

Travel is important because it introduces you to things that you’ve never seen before. But it’s also important because it lets you see things you think you already know in a new way. Cultural differences never stand out quite as vibrantly as when they are set against a backdrop of what is familiar, like a carnival.

So, when you are out-and-about in the world and someone, especially someone local, suggests going to McDonalds or the like – go! I hear in India they throw their fries from Mickey D’s in a bag of favorite Indian spices to literally “shake” it up. You may be surprised by what you find. It might be trivial, and not too terribly significant to local culture on the same scale as a historical landmark or religious institution, but I promise, you will leave a seemingly bland experience seeing your own culture and the culture you are visiting with new eyes.

Emily Bowman, DUSA Student Blogger

Decisions, Decisions, and Premonitions on your Destination for Study Abroad

Published on by E L B2 Comments

You know when you have that feeling in your gut that something important is just about to happen? When I was little, I used to think these feelings were special indicators of future events – I called it reverse déjà vu. As I’ve grown, I’ve come to the less supernatural conclusion that I must just have particularly strong intuition.

But someties, these feelings catch you by the wayside, and it’s only after the realization’s come to surface that you can see how it’s been stuck to you for awhile and you’ve just been blind to its meaning.

One of the most significant moments of my life happened this way. As a kid I’d lie awake at night sometimes and wonder what it would be like if I lived in another country – what if I wasn’t born as an American? If I were a Britishschoolgirl instead, what would I be doing right now? Or if I were from Zimbabwe? China? Argentina? The thought of it would make me breathless.

Then, when I turned fifteen, my family and I moved to Melbourne, Australia. During the first few months of the five years I lived there, I would wake up astonished with my situation. I – am living in Australia? Then I’d remember those night I spent wondering about life in far away places…it made sense. Of course, I was always meant to be this person, an expat, a traveler. It’s what led me to my current path as an International Studies major at the University of Denver.

The same thing happened with Study Abroad. As soon as the start of my first year at DU I was looking at my options. I considered everywhere – and I’m not kidding; destinations as diverse as The Hague and Hong Kong. I even considered returning to Australia. For a spell, I was dead set on going to the Dominican Republic. Then there was Bilbao.

After mulling over my options, I was drawn to Spain. Somewhat reluctantly to tell you the truth, but I had a feeling. Soon enough, I was swept up with the idea of living in Madrid, the pulsing cosmopolitan heart of the country. Having worked with texts by Frederico García Llorca in high school, I was charmed by visions of life in Andalucía. The whimsical paintings of Salvador Dalí made me curious to see the landscape of Catalonia. I could practically see myself surrounded by the Moorish architecture of Granada. But Bilbao? No. Who goes to the north of Spain, when you can revel in the fiery south?

But something would say to me, “I bet that’s where you’ll be going, Emily,” and inside I would sigh at the thought. My intuition was speaking to me, but I didn’t want to listen.

You see we get so caught up in what we think we should do, where we should go, how our future should look, the kind of person we should be. That takes a lot of planning and organizing and lists. Lots of lists, with pros and cons and comparisons all for making decisions on our lives. I made lots of lists for study abroad, in my head and on paper. I know a lot of my friends did too. But travel shouldn’t be that way at all. Travel’s meant to break routine and throw us out on a limb. We leave what we know and what’s familiar in order to be confronted with what we didn’t plan for, don’t we?

So, I brought my list of what I wanted in a Study Abroad locale with me to my meeting with the Study Abroad advisor last Fall. Lo and behold, after looking over my list, the advisor looked and me and said, “It looks like Bilbao would be a perfect fit for you,” more or less.

“Well, of course it does,” I said to myself.

But you know, she talked me into it.

“Go to northern Spain,” she said.

“Why?” I countered.

“Because it is entirely unlike the rest of the country. It’s lush and green. There are mountains all around. The coast is beautiful. I know you hear all about la Costa del Sol, but all the Spaniards run to the northern coast for their holidays.”

I was listening.

“The culture up to the north is entirely unique to the region. There’s a very strong Celtic presence, they even play bagpipes, which you wouldn’t expect in Spain would you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Exactly. Most people don’t know much about the north of Spain because, well, most people don’t go there. And that’s one of the best parts, you’ll be one of few foreigners studying abroad in the region.”

That piqued my interest.

Then she winced and added, “It’s true that people can be a bit – apprehensive – to travel to the Basque country, and if you ask a Spaniard what they think of the idea they’ll probably advise you against it because of the ETA, but, really, it’s not dangerous. In fact, the ETA declared a ceasefire last month and, anyways, they never plant bombs inside the Basque country, so you’d actually be much safer, in theory, from terrorist threats in Bilbao than if you were anywhere else in the country.”

For some twisted reason, it was the idea of studying abroad in a place with an active national resistance movement that got me hooked.

So, I gave in to fate. I will be studying abroad en la otra costa, with ISA in Bilbao, Spain come September. And I couldn’t be happier. In my experience, the best journeys don’t fit within our carefully considered expectations. The destination draws you in, without any preparation on your part, sometimes against reason. Get rid of expectations when you travel, you’re better without them. Instead, follow your premonitions, because they know where you are going, and I’ll bet you can’t wait to find out.

Emily Bowman, DUSA Blogger