Lost in Translation - Honey, Tampons and Sensible Condoms

Our first day in Spain we were exhausted, hot and excited to finally be here. After doing a little unpacking we walked out of our apartment and into our new life. Our first stop was a café in the middle of a lovely park. It was tranquil in the shade watching the children play, dogs run around and couples walk hand in hand.

Since I spoke the most Spanish it was up to me to order. Lily wanted noodles and butter and so I ordered, “pasta con miel”. “Pasta con miel?” said the waitress. “Si, pasta con miel” said I. “Pasta con miel????” she said again with a face. “Si, pasta con miel”.

“Bitch,” I though. "I understand that you think we are stupid Americans and that European kids eat all kinds of fancy stuff but my kid just got off a transatlantic flight and she just wants frikkin buttered noodles.”

Finally she agreed and went to put in the order.

And then she brought it out. Pasta con miel just as I had asked...noodles with HONEY.

Thankfully the KIND waitress had the foresight to put it in a separate bowl. I burst out laughing and suddenly remembered that miel is the word for honey BUT mantequilla is the words for butter. The waitress laughed too and quickly brought butter.

And that is basically how it has gone all year. I order something and something else appears. I make a request and get it but it is different than what I expect. Imagine me in the emergency room trying to figure out how to care for Jacob who after an x-ray was diagnosed with the serious sounding capsulities and then realizing he had just jammed his finger on basketball.

Usually my language skills can be blamed….but not all of the time. In Barcelona asking if you prefer "carne" or "pescado" (meat or fish) is sometimes asked to see if you prefer men or women.

Just to make things more complicated there are so many words that bleed from one language to the other, odd translations and just plain oddities of the language. Happily 98% of the time it is cause for laughter, head-shaking and amusement. And, the other other 2% becomes a good story a week or two later.

Below are a few of my favorites. I’ve included pictures just so you will believe me.

ULTRA SENSIBLE CONDOMS...they were selling these sensible condoms at the gas station. Are these for people who really, really don't want to lose themselves in passion but rather approach their intimacy in an ultra sensible way?   Alas, sensible (pronounced "sen-see-blay") mean sensitive in Spanish.

TAMPON COOKIE…yummy, homemade and the most puzzling of all. Turns out the this is a cookie made of a ceramic stamp so each cookie has a picture on it. The problem is that cookie is in English and tampon clearly isn’t…or is it???

TRUFFLED BIKINI…do I need to wax before I order this? Turns out that sandwiches with two fillings are called bikinis. This one included truffle oil. It was actually rather tasty.

COLON…just what I always wanted to wash my clothes with. Honestly I can’t figure out this one since it  seems to mean the same thing in Spanish and English. Colón is Colombus as in Christopher Colombus but that word an accent over the “o” and the product doesn’t. Yet another unsolved mystery.

DOUCHE...OK, I know I have watched too much South Park but every time I see the French word for shower "douche" I can't help but giggle. I am especially amused when I see packaging for associated products, especially those that come in multiple fragrances.

BOMBERS…yes, in Spain bombers get their own special lock in the elevators. Turns out that in Catalan (the language spoken in Barcelona) a bomber is a fireman.

Good Idea

When I started playing tennis I often played with a woman named Frankie. She was over 80 and had flowing long silver hair. She didn’t run, but her ball placement was impeccable. I tried to emulate her but the result was usually a disaster. After my failures she would look at me, smile and say, “Good idea”. She liked that I tried but clearly there was space for improvement.

Pepa

I came up a “good idea” last October. We had been traveling a lot and found it stressful to be in different beds each night lugging our gear between destinations.  My idea was that we would rent a campervan (think Scooby-mobile) and travel through Southern Spain. With the camper our beds and belongings would move with us and we would avoid all the loading and unloading. I fantasized that we would explore country roads, stop for picnics, stroll though historic towns and spend our nights in camp grounds next to babbling brooks.

Good idea right???

So I booked it.

We flew to Southern Spain and picked up our campervan cheerily named “Pepa”. Pepa was cute, clean and well equipped. We were all impressed. After our technical orientation and cramming our stuff into the very limited storage we hit the road.

It was only a few miles outside of town that I started to wonder if my “good idea” might be a little ill-conceived. The backseat of the van, which cleverly turned into a bed, was uncomfortable for long drives. There was quite a bit of complaining and readjusting but finally it was OK. Pfhew…problem solved.

Penitents

And then we arrived in our campground in Granada. It had not occurred to me that urban campgrounds are crowded, dirty, noisy and located where land is cheap…which is to say, not close to the quaint, historic center of town. My mood darkened when the teenagers next to us turned on their music and I glimpsed the dark-green, frothy swimming pool. We ventured out of our campground for dinner and ended up in an empty Chinese restaurant with gooey, bland food. We finally went to bed only to be awoken at 12:15am when then kids next to us were being noisy. Thankfully, a shrill “Chicos! Silencio por favor!” from me shut them up.

We did enjoy seeing Granada, the Alhambra, and the processions of penitents in celebration of Semana Santa (holy week) before Easter. I was optimistic that things would look up.

And then it was onto Cordoba.

The campground there was even grimmer. We were initially given a

Children that have given up.

site that looked like a converted animal pen so I complained and we were moved to a site with a lone eucalyptus tree. Again we were far from the city center but we hoofed it into town to have dinner and see more penitents. I decided to buy a pillow in hopes that my mood would improve with a better night’s sleep. It didn’t. The next morning I decided to brave the showers. There was a long row of showers stall and a line of hooks outside each one where each woman hung her towel and clothes. When I walked out of my stall I was confronted by the dirty, crusty thong underwear of some other camper.

I knew something had to CHANGE and fast.

So I cried.

Ditched our camper for a carriage in Seville.

And then I started looking into hotel options. Almost everything was booked since it was Holy Week and we need a room for four people. For the obscene price 385Euros ($531)/ night we would be could have a nice room in a nice place in the center of Seville. Mike was ambivalent (ok, a little opposed) but after mulling it over and doing more research he said, “Book it!!” I did and onto Seville we went.

We got to Seville, ditched the camper at the train station, took a cab to our hotel and checked in. It was spacious, clean, and quiet, and the dirty clothes were our own. After a few blissful days without Pepa we took a cab back to the train station and resumed our adventure on four wheels

We were headed to Arcos de la Frontera, one of the famed white hill towns. We knew camping here would be a problem so we had already booked a hotel room in an inn perched on the side of a steep slope. We tried to drive to our hotel but our beast of a vehicle couldn’t make it up and into the little streets. We had become the kind of tourists that people point and laugh at. After skidding and sliding on a steep hill we backed down and sheepishly ditched the van. We now had to walk about a mile uphill with our luggage to our hotel.

Bull running Easter morning

We finally got there and it was super cute BUT….the innkeeper told us that we had actually reserved our room for the previous night and there was “no space at the inn” and since the room was prepaid there was no refund. Amazingly our innkeeper was able to find us another place close by.

Arcos was beautiful and we did finally enjoy a picnic next to a stream. We also were there for the running of the bulls which was fun although over in about 20 seconds.

Our last day of exploring southern Spain was beautiful but very windy and blustery. Ronda and Grazalema were gorgeous little towns hanging from cliffs and definitely places we want to go back to.
We took the long route through the mountains and spent our last night happily in a cute campground with a beautiful swimming pool. The kids played with each other and we had a glass of wine along with our pasta dinner. We had gotten used to sleeping in close quarters and there was peace in the kingdom.

So what did we learn???

Mixing camping and seeing historic towns was a bad idea especially in high season. But each done separately is great. And, just like my angled shot at the net in tennis how we travel continues to be a work in progress.

Good idea but clearly there is space for improvement

What are you doing with your life?

Before we left on sabbatical people asked me what I would be doing during our year abroad. I usually demurred at this question since I really had no idea. I would say something like…write a book, do some writing and take up painting. Ha-ha-ha. Now that I am here I can answer the question with a simple response: just living, but living a little larger than usual.

Laundry day again.

Much of each day I do exactly what I did in Madison. I keep the trains running on time. I do dishes and laundry, grocery shop, wipe blobs of toothpaste off the bathroom counter, nag children about homework, take kids to school and bring them home again. All of these things take longer in Spain because my language skills are limited, I don’t have a car, our washing machine is smaller and there is no Target. It’s my same life but here I get to do these things with a sunny sky overhead, beautiful architecture in the background and parrots flying down the street. I also try to channel my well-dressed Spanish neighbor ladies and pretend to be glamorous as I trundle down the street with my granny cart and sneakers.

Lighting up at 10K

I also spend a lot of my time walking. I got a Fitbit a few weeks ago and I have become mildly obsessed. It vibrates seductively when I hit 10,000 steps, which I usually do by about 1pm….then I keep walking. Mike has suggested I up the goal so it doesn’t vibrate until 15K steps but somehow it gives me a little high to feel the zzzz of the wrist band and know I will do more. Not having a car has been great for steps but my feet hurt and I use my step count to justify not going to the gym, which is probably not a great idea.

Cooking class in Morocco

The past months I have also spent an obscene amount of time planning our various adventures. I have become an expert at planning trips and I spend hours comparing prices, booking flights, hotels, activities, restaurants, routes, etc. I have planned trips that have included performances, cooking classes, camping with Bedouins, youth hostels, Gladiator fighting lessons, donkey, horse and camel riding, snorkeling, a picnic with a Berber farmer, camper vanning, visiting friends and even the occasional nice hotel. I have just finished planning our last adventure and now feel DONE. We will come back to Madison exhausted but sated.

Venetian canal

When I told people I would paint while I was here it was said in jest. Barcelona was home to Miro, Picasso, and Dali so it was a joke. And then in October I bought a children’s set of acrylic paints and got started. And then I bought more paints and brushes, and then a book and then more paint, all the while just playing around. And then I quit my Spanish class and started painting classes. Now I paint 2-3 times each week. I find it incredibly hard and it challenges me in new ways. I have a lot of difficultly seeing what color things actually are and understanding how to simulate shape and light with paint. I have been trying for days to learn to paint clouds and am still stuck.  I always thought that puffy clouds were white. Turns out they are white and blue and grey and purple. I told Mike that I plan to turn our home office into an art studio when we get back. I am only half kidding.

Enjoying a cacot.

The last category of my activity would fall into the category of exploring and saying “yes”. Ask me if I want to have a wine-soaked lunch at a new restaurant, my answer is yes. Ask me if I want to spend the day at a graffiti expo, yes again. Ask me if I want to do a civil war tour of Barcelona, I will pause, since it sounds rather boring, but I will eventually come around to yes. Ask me if I want to go to a burlesque performance…you guessed it, yes. Ask me if I want shot of just about anything…yes…although I will regret it. I have been trying to be open to all kind of new people, experiences, adventures and ideas.

So, that is what I have been doing. We have four more months and lots of guest coming so I will definitely have to add entertaining to my list. And, now I have to come up with an answer to the question, “What will you do when you go home”. For now my answer is “write that book I have been meaning to write”, ha-ha-ha…

Stay tuned!

Holy Crap

I had read about them. We even had a family competition. Who ever saw one first would win. We were all looking for “Caganers”. The Caganer is a Christmas character in Barcelona. He is the man in the creche with his pants at his ankles taking a dump.

At the beginning of December shops started to carry little statues of caganers. Small ones, big ones and even thematic caganers from Obama to Sponge Bob…even the Pope. Each statue is different but each one has a bare butt and includes a pile of crap.

As if that wasn’t enough poop for one holiday, Christmas in Barcelona also includes the Caga Tio or the Crapping Log. It is small log with a smiling face and cute little hat. Starting on December 8 children feed the log and then on Christmas Eve it is ordered to poop. When that doesn’t happen (it is a log after all) the children beat it with a stick singing a traditional song. When the children are distracted the log then craps out Christmas presents.

This is serious business. Jacob’s Spanish class even took a field trip to the Christmas market see the Caganers and Caga Tios for sale. His class was taught the song and even acted it out…they beat a girl with a stick while singing the song. Here is the video.

It turns out that there is a long history to this tradition. Its roots are in the rural culture and the importance of the fertility of the land, cycle of life, importance of the soil, blah, blah…

For our family however it led to endless amusement. We bought our own which we added to the children’s gingerbread scenes and we excitedly gave one to my brother who suffered intestinal distress while visiting. We also gave Mike's brother a caganer magnet. Kind of takes getting a "crappy gift" to a whole new level.

Much of our amusement is the result of culture shock (although Mike says that poop is always funny). It was something completely new and so it felt weird and silly. Spain is a place of long held traditions and people are attached to those traditions. Living here for a year is allowing us to experience those traditions, learn a little about each one and understand that even in the era of the internet, culture really is different all over the world.

And different is fun even when its crappy.