A Taste of Spain

The tempting picture in my cookbook... how could I resist?

One of my favorite ways of remembering Spain (and perhaps to try and re-live it a little) is by trying to recreate some of my favorite foods from the country.  I even received a cookbook of Spanish foods for Christmas two years ago, when I came back from my trip.  I was flipping through a week or so ago and I spied one of these tasty treats, ensaimadas – little spiral pastries topped with powdered sugar.  They are light, sweet, and a delightful breakfast treat with a chocolate (hot chocolate) or café (coffee).  They’re from the region of Mallorca, but you can find them pretty much everywhere in the country (at least in the major cities).

So, I decided to have a go at my Spanish baking skills – after all, I have a recipe and everything.  It’s not a particularly difficult recipe, either, but I had never worked with yeast before so I was a little worried about messing up the cultures and ending up with flat pastries… but hey, at least they would taste good.  I admit that it was a little bit of a challenge to find all the proper cooking utensils in the dorm, but Robinson is pretty well stocked, luckily.  The only thing that I couldn’t locate was a food mixer, so I had to knead the dough by hand, which was not a problem.  I even documented my progress in this exciting endeavor:

First, before going into the oven, after cooling for 24 hours, then rising for three...

Then, after coming out of the oven, looking pretty good so far...

 

Finally, my proud final product, lightly dusted and tempting. Not bad!

They didn’t turn out exactly like they’re supposed to, but they were pretty close (and still quite delicious).  Success!

A Well-Rounded Workout

During my senior year of high school, I ceased—for the first time since elementary school—to play team sports, and as a result, I essentially went an entire year without exercising. Upon arriving at college, however, I quickly discovered (epiphany!) that exercise was an essential for a balanced, healthy life. Having two gym facilities within five minutes’ walking distance has been the clincher, and I’ve gone to the gym regularly ever since.

Certainly, one might make the argument that college life simply does not allow time for exercise. What I’ve found, though, is that a few hours a week in the gym serve as an invaluable stress reliever which both relaxes and invigorates me, enabling me to study more effectively and efficiently when I do sit down to work. Of late, the gym has offered a couple of other unique attractions—one has been helpful instruction on workout routines, and the other, the opportunity to practice Spanish.

You see, when I go to the Galloway gym across campus, I often run into friends who are athletic training majors. This turns out to be of great benefit to me, because they often stop what they’re doing to show me how to do a particular workout more effectively. Often, they even go into a detailed explanation of the physiological bases for their advice, which proves quite instructive and fascinating.

My time in the gym has also been especially interesting lately due, in large part, to my time in Spain last semester. The reason for this is that many of Erskine’s athletes are from Spanish-speaking countries, and so I often run into them at the gym. While before studying abroad, I might have ventured a timid hola, my experience overseas has given me both more courage in speaking and a greater ability to identify with students studying outside of their native countries. As a result, I’ve lately gotten to have a number of conversations in the gym with friends from Puerto Rico, Spain, and Peru. Thus, I’m able to get both a physical and intellectual workout all at once. And now, off to the gym!

Back at Erskine

Enjoying a meal at a local "Mom and Pop" restaurant in the great metropolis of Belton shortly after my return.

It’s been rather a while since I wrote last, probably because I’ve been busy transitioning from “Spain life” back into  life at Erskine—a transition that has kept my time happily filled with catch-up coffee dates, time spent getting to know freshmen I only briefly met during fall orientation, and moving back into the dorm. There certainly are things about moving back to Erskine after having been abroad that are disorienting. (For one thing, I’m “the new kid” in some ways, while the freshmen now have a semester of Erskine history under their belt for which I was absent.) Overall, though, it’s been incredibly fun to jump back into the swing of things here in good ol’ Due West. And although lots of amazing conversations and times with friends have been had since I got back, one particular incident from this evening is what I’d like to share at the moment.

You see, as much as I loved Spain and wouldn’t trade the experiences I had there for the world, I also greatly missed Erskine, in large part because the community God has blessed me with here is so very special. Honestly, it took being away from Erskine for me to realize how truly amazing it is. Not because it’s a perfect school, nor because I’m always 100% happy every day here (I mean, we live in a fallen world), but because being far from home has shown me what an incredible blessing it is to be surrounded by so many encouraging friends who are all came to Erskine for the same reasons I did. Now, don’t get me wrong—there is quite a lot of ideological diversity on Erskine’s campus; and that’s a good thing! There’s a great contrast, however, between finding a handful of Christian friends in Spain and, at Erskine, being surrounded by a vast number of like-minded friends who challenge me, encourage me, and support me.

One fun January outing was an evening at the home of Erskine's Admissions Operations Coordinator (who also happens to be a fabulous cook and hostess)...

This evening, for example, I was wrestling inwardly with a bit of an existential crisis regarding my future calling (a crisis I would imagine not a few college students have experienced right around this time in their educational career).  I’ve always thought this was the vocation God was calling me to, but now I don’t even know…and maybe this isn’t what I’m meant to do for reasons x, y, z…but if it’s not, then what IS He calling me to? Etc., etc. Like a badly authored bit of stream of consciousness writing, these thoughts were racing through my head as I walked into my dorm a few hours ago to find an unsuspecting friend on sitting at the desk on lobby duty. Since I’m usually terrible at keeping whatever thoughts are consuming me bottled up, some of the aforementioned stream of incoherent thoughts and questions began to spill out.

Under Amanda's tutelage, we cooked a delicious meal together. Here are Rachel and Rebekah cutting up the potatoes.

So what did my friend—who happens to be a kind and insightful psychology major—do? She had me sit down and talk through my life plans and goals with her. And of course, since I’m at Erskine, I can already predict that this was one in a long series of conversations which I’ll doubtless have with various friends as I process and they advise, direct, and ask helpful questions. The simple fact that there are a large number of wise, well-adjusted, and caring individuals who will all listen as I babble and give me solid, Biblical advice in response is just a mind-boggling blessing. Living on a campus surrounded by friends who challenge, encourage, and care for me every day is such a delight. College is indeed a unique season of life. And like any other part of life, college is also largely what one makes of it. Erskine just happens to be an especially wonderful place in which to do that. “We always thank God for all of you…We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.” ~1 Thessalonians 1:2-3.

The scrumptious dinner we made. And there isn't even a picture of the coffee-cake pound-cake we made for dessert. Yum.

Living Abroad and Thanksgiving in Spain

Have a seat, make yourself comfortable, and enjoy a scrumptious Thanksgiving meal on the Mediterranean

There is just nothing like living in another country to broaden one’s perspective. Since arriving in Spain, I’ve discovered that almost everything—from gestures and language to packaging in the grocery store—is a little bit different. It’s one thing to read about and study other countries; it’s something entirely different to daily encounter little differences that cause you to scratch your head and say, “oh…but I thought everyone did it this way”. For example, I enjoyed a delicious vegetable stew the other day, prepared by my wonderful host mother, only to discover (with a shudder, I’ll admit) that that “unusual” soup ingredient that she’d mentioned and which I’d eaten with relish was blood sausage. (It was probably for the best, because, had I known what morcilla was beforehand, I highly doubt that I would have enjoyed my meal so immensely.) When Puri saw the look of disconcerted comprehension dawn on my face as I looked up the
word for said dish after lunch, she calmly explained how black pudding is made and pointed out that we eat far more questionable animal products in the form of hotdogs and hamburgers. She’s quite right, of course, and it’s been interesting to think since, in light of that experience, about how the “psychology of food” works.

Allison and Cassie with the mashed potatoes!

Now, don’t get me wrong—when I say that Spain is “different”, I don’t mean to imply that it’s dramatically different from the US. As in most modern, developed countries, houses, clothing styles, transportation, and the amenities of life are all about the same, with the one exception in Alicante being the absence of heating and air in houses. You see, since the weather here is rarely extreme, there really isn’t all that much need for AC and heat. Even so, I confess that I sorely felt the lack of air conditioning during my first couple of weeks here. As the seasons have changed, though, and it’s become a bit chillier, the absence this particular amenity has been really made me think. Perhaps having buildings toasty warm—almost to the point of discomfort—inside makes our bodies less able to adapt to seasonal changes of temperature? Being without heating and air has also made me realize how often I flip a switch when I feel hot or cold when really, I could sim
ply put on warmer clothing or drink some iced water and get the same effect in a more economic and environmentally-friendly way.

The table set for Thanksgiving at the home of our beloved professors, Armando and Cynthia

Call me a comfort-loving American (guilty as charged), but when I was first adjusting to life in Spain, the idea of not being able to control the temperature of my surroundings whenever I wanted was rather disconcerting. However, as I’ve seen that yes, it is quite possible to live comfortably—albeit in an area with a mild climate—without heating and air, I’ve also become much more sensitive to body-temperature phenomena like these: Cold? Solution: more clothing, hot tea, and/or blankets. Hot? Solution: don’t drink hot tea, wear cool clothing, and sit outside in the breeze. All that isn’t to say that I’m going to stop using heat when I go home (hardly)…but the experience of living in an area where almost no houses even have a heating and air system installed in them has certainly made me more thoughtful about the way I view stewardship and the way in which something I consider a necessity may actually only be an unexamined habit of living. Really, then, as in a
ll areas of life, when it comes to our expenditure of energy, balance is the key; and I think I’ll return home a bit more balanced.

Another “little” difference that is obvious but which still struck me as odd at first is the absolute absence of a vitally important holiday, which is celebrated by festivities all around the world (right?)…yes, Thanksgiving. Well of course no one in Europe (or anywhere else in the world except in the US, for that matter) commemorates the first thanksgiving meal held by the pilgrims in the New World out of gratitude to the Lord for his provision. In fact, if you type the word “Thanksgiving” into Google.es (the Spanish version of Google, which automatically appears in place of Google.com when one is in Spain), you will immediately pull up perfectly natural questions like “¿Qué es Thanksgiving?” (“What is Thanksgiving?”) and the subsequent explanation. In fact, I just had a conversation with my elevator friend (dubbed thusly because she’s a delightful former teacher whom I always seem to bump into in the elevator in our apartment), and she was under the impres
sion that Thanksgiving was the American version of Christmas. My mother was also quite surprised to hear that, today, November 24th, was the day of my final exam for one of my classes. I will be celebrating the holiday this afternoon, however, by having a Thanksgiving meal with my study abroad group at the home of our esteemed professor, Armando. I’m also going to attempt to make buttermilk biscuits without real buttermilk (which, like cranberries, doesn’t seem to be sold here in Alicante) and using an entirely different system of measurements. So I think I’ll need 440 grams of flour?

Just One Reason Erskine is Special…

In the nearby village of Elche, Spain...in a bookstore. You can always spot a humanities major.

If you’re either around college-age or have a student who’s beginning to look at schools, you’ve probably spent at least some time researching and visiting different universities, weighing the respective pros and cons of the institutions that interest you. One factor which I know I took into account when I was looking at schools is the difference in the number of resources found at a large university as opposed to a smaller one. I worried that, were I to go to a small college, I would be missing out if I didn’t have access to everything made available by a large university. Certainly, such a wealth of resources—primarily in the form of enormous libraries—is an extremely valuable asset. What I’ve found since coming to Erskine, however, is that, thanks to incredible librarians and a well-oiled interlibrary loan system, I never have trouble obtaining exactly the resources I need, no matter how specific or obscure the topic I’m researching.

Today, I saw a bit of the flip-side of the research process that I’ve become familiar with at Erskine when I made my first foray into the world of researching at a large university. Before I comment on this experience, I should note that I don’t mean in any way to disparage the University of Alicante by doing so—I am greatly enjoying my classes at the university, and all of my experiences and professors thus far have been excellent! It’s just that, my time in the library this morning helped me see that “the grass is always greener” is an adage because we often don’t fully appreciate the good things we have. You see, when I walked into the huge, multi-level library and saw the shelves upon shelves of books, I was enchanted. Had I gone to a huge school, such copious amounts of resources might have been at my fingertips as well. (Of course, such resources are at my fingertips within three to five days of requesting them from WorldCat…but the green monster is rare
ly logical.) I then commenced searching for books on the topics on which I plan to write my final essays. And gracious, I couldn’t seem to find anything. This was probably at least partly due to my unfamiliarity with the system of book cataloguing used in Spain (which, like measurements, temperature, and classroom numbers, is completely different from that used in the US). Nevertheless, I was quite disheartened to discover that the books I needed were scattered all throughout the vast library building and that some apparently weren’t even in the same building where I was seated. Sigh.

Inside the Almudena Cathedral in Madrid

So I did what I usually do when I’m confused (which, of course, happens only *cough* very rarely): I asked for help. Walking up to one of the librarians, I was met with what can only be described as something of a grimace. She explained—in rapid Spanish—where I could find the list of books I’d compiled and seemed quite annoyed when asked for further clarification on where the basement and the Law Library were. Later, after I finally wandered back to the front desk on that particular floor, I asked the other librarian on duty if I could check my books out then. Only, as I quailed a bit under his scowl, my Spanish vocabulary seemed to vaporize, and I stumbled over my words a bit before being told, rather gruffly, that I could check books out on the first floor. All that to say, the librarians were reasonably cordial, if not friendly, and answered my questions. But as I walked out of the library thinking that I would prefer to just do my research online, I couldn’t hel
p but think how spoiled I am to walk into McCain Library in Due West and to unfailingly be given swift, one-on-one assistance by one of Erskine’s well-versed keepers-of-the-books (surely “librarian” is too mundane a name for such an important job?). I’m not sure that the contrast between that possibility of “being a number” at a large university and the personal, close-knit-community feel I’ve come to enjoy at Erskine have ever seemed quite so stark to me. That’s not in any way to say that one can’t thrive in either a small-school or large-school setting or that each type of school doesn’t have its charms… I just happen to really appreciate my Erskine family and am thankful that God has placed me in it!

View of the beach beside my house in Alicante

In the end, when I arrived back at my piso (apartment) and attempted to use the online Erskine journal database, I discovered to my consternation that I couldn’t seem to log onto the website. Of course, considering that there are a number of US websites that are not accessible from overseas, I wasn’t particularly surprised, but I figured I would email one of the librarians at Erskine to ask about my difficulty. I also mentioned, in my query, the topics I was attempting to research. And what do you think I found in my inbox only hours later? The news that the aforementioned librarian had entered my student ID into the system and that I should now have access to Erskine’s databases AND (get this), a flood of academic articles on the topics I had mentioned in passing. Wow. All the way from Spain, I felt so blessed. And now, I’ve got some reading to do.

Musings in Spain

One thing I’ve loved about being in Spain has been the relatively extensive amount of time I have here to read, study, and contemplate. Granted, I miss all of the Erskine fellowship, activities, and other commitments that fill my time when I’m at school in the US. It’s been quite refreshing, however, to have a season much more conducive to studying certain topics more deeply, with the time to follow intellectual rabbit trails that peak my interest. At the moment, for example, I’m reading Boethius’s Consolation of Philosophy, a 6th century work of philosophy that had a huge impact on the development of the Western tradition and is referenced by later authors like Dante and Chaucer. Although this ancient work of philosophy in not written from a specifically Christian perspective, God is often referenced, and I’ve been fascinated to note how closely much of the wisdom contained therein parallels the truths of Scripture.

This weekend, a friend from Erskine who's currently studying at Oxford came to visit me and Lisa! We had fun, and we even made time to go to the Alicante "mercadillo" (Saturday market), pictured here.

It has also been interesting to note how pertinent Boethius’s musings are to the twenty-first century world of pluralism and moral relativism in which we live. For example, he declares that, “If God exists, whence comes evil? Yet whence comes good, if He exists not?” Here, in this sixth century classic, a philosopher wrestles with the problem of evil, which a number of friends her in Spain have pointed to as a reason for disbelief. And yet, Boethius concludes that, yes, the fallen nature of our world is puzzling; but that, apart from some outside standard, our innate concept of “good” and “evil” makes no sense. If there is no God, we have no ground to stand on from which to condemn heinous acts, and this absence of an outside standard would inevitably lead to nihilism if we were intellectually honest.

Joseph, Lisa, and I enjoyed catching up over coffee...three friends talking about Due West, SC in a Spanish panadería. Who would've thought?

Boethius also remarks that, “whenever a man by proclaiming his good deeds receives the recompense of fame, he diminishes in a measure the secret reward of a good conscience”, which echoes the Scriptural truth that, “when [we] give to the needy”, we are “not [to] announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full” (Mark 6:2). I also love the beauty of the author’s words as he addresses Lady Philosophy, albeit in the midst of his distress over being unjustly accused of treason: “Is this the library, the room which thou hadst chosen as thy constant resort in my home, the place where we so often sat together and held discourse of all things in heaven and earth? …thou didst trace for me with thy wand the courses of the stars, moulding the while my character and the whole conduct of my life after that patter of the celestial order…”

Anyway, back to Spain. A troubling dilemma that I’ve encountered since arriving is the question of how much I can reasonably cart back to the US. Namely, how many books will fit in my suitcase, along with all of my clothing and other necessities (oh, and a souvenir or two), without pushing it over the highly unrealistic weight limit (*cough*, please don’t report me to American Airlines). I empathize greatly with a remark of Ben House’s that I read the other day on the one of my favorite blogs, the Grantian Florilegium. This is his confession: “I start more books than I finish. I buy more than I start. I forget much of what I read… Mornings begin with reading and coffee. My light cannot go out without at least a few minutes to read at the end of the day. Beside my bed stand a dangerous leaning tower—the great mass of unfinished volumes looming over my bed.” I just hooted when I read this, because—as my family will tell you—I’m the same way. The only problem
is that I cannot realistically transport a mini-library across the Atlantic Ocean in my limit-of-fifty-pounds suitcase. My solution? I’ve borrowed books and gone to the library. Of course, as with Ben, my bibliophilic enthusiasm has rather outstripped my ability to read rapidly (especially in Spanish). Consequently, I have far more books in my room at the moment than I can possibly finish in a semester…and I only have four weeks left. I can hardly believe it! How time does fly.

A few of the books on my shelf...

What’s Great About Spain?

For a change of pace, I’ve decided to post a dual list of things I appreciate about Spain and things I miss about home, caveat being, of course, that such a list necessarily involves generalizations. So don’t take my word for it—come for a visit!

A random odd thing: milk in stores in Spain is kept in the open, along with boxes of cereal and other such dry goods. The pasteurization process used here is different, apparently.

Breakfast cookies...yum

Things I love about Spain:

Everyone is friendly and most are extremely patient with language-learners

The weather is almost always balmy

Desserts like natias (a sweet type of pudding) and turrón (nougat made with honey, sugar, egg white, and nuts), and scrumptious traditional dishes like paella

One is never late (this is true even of me…which is saying something). If, for example, your bus is stopped for fifteen minutes because of some unidentified obstacle in the road and you are subsequently caught in the rain, all of which causes you to arrive at class twenty minutes late, no pasa nada (no big deal)—you’ll probably arrive *cough* before five or so other students anyway.

Cookies for breakfast. (Yes, every morning I eat cereal and galletas….You can also put butter and jelly on your cookies, but after a couple of weeks of this sweet breakfast diet, I switched to dipping mine in milk instead and only eat the butter-and-jelly combination on Sundays. As much as I love sweets, I just couldn’t feel at ease about eating cookies with such unhealthy toppings for breakfast. Although I suppose it’s not much different from the sugary varieties of cereal we eat at home…interesting how the psyche works sometimes.)

Alicante on a breezy fall day

A completely different sense of time—the Spanish almost never seem to be in a hurry, and they always have time for fellowship. The tyranny of the urgent doesn’t seem to exist here…or at least, not to the same degree. I think this easy-going perspective on time is rubbing off on me, because I’ve found myself, for example, making the one-hour trip to an internship only to find that the office where I’ve been volunteering was closed for the day. The gals I work with there had forgotten to tell me not to come, and I consequently traveled two hours for no reason…and yet, I wasn’t at all phased or upset by this…strange.

Being in Spain, I think, is teaching me to better understand G.K. Chesterton when he says that “an adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.” Indeed, some of my best adventures here have come about “by chance” when I was searching for something or waiting for something…I mean, even going to the grocery store for the first time here was an adventure! Everything—not just the language— is just different enough to keep me constantly learning.

Countryside surrounding the Spanish town of Guadalest

Going to the movies. This isn’t particularly unique to Spain, but it was so exciting to go to a recent theater a few weeks ago and to discover that I was actually able to enjoy and understand a movie in Spanish! Sure, I may have missed a few details…but the experience was a more tangible proof that some of the reading, speaking, and studying I’m doing is actually sinking in!

Meeting new people and experiencing new things. It has been both fun and fascinating to converse with young people from countries as diverse as Turkey, Italy, Germany, Spain, Kazakhstan, Finland, China, etc., etc. It has also been such a blessing to be welcomed into church family and youth group here in Spain. Finally, I’d better not go into too much detail, or this post will become a short novel…but one of my favorite “new experiences” has been seeing the numerous cathedrals in various cities (they’re everywhere here!). Whatever your beliefs, these churches are breathtakingly beautiful.

Things I miss about home: ice and hot tea (these may see like strangely incongruent items to miss, but I’m both Southern and a lover of hot tea; and neither of these ends of the beverage spectrum are very common in Spain. I was, however, excited, at long last, to find a tea cup in Barcelona to add to my collection. Perhaps that particular souvenir item would have been easier to find in Great Britain, but anyway…)

Peanut butter (This is one food that I eat with great regularity at school, but it seems to be a rarity here.)

My car (It’s quite strange to have not driven for over two months. Consequently, I actually found myself fantasizing about driving the other day…and I don’t even like to drive!) Riding the bus, as I see it, is part of my Spain-experience, and I like it most of the time. But it is nice to be able to hop in the car and to arrive somewhere ten minutes later. Also, for someone who’s borderline germophobic (I may or may not keep a large container of Clorox wipes in my dorm room), becoming accustomed to the daily use of public transportation was somewhat disconcerting. The bus lines in Alicante, however (and in Spain in general, from what I’ve seen), and remarkably well-kept and sanitary. Still.

Family and friends at home and familiar things. Need I say more? They’re just amazing.

Me, Oblivious?

You know you’re not observant when…

The bus I ride to classes each day

…you ride the bus in the wrong direction for fifteen minutes before it dawns on you that you don’t recognize this part of town and are now on the outskirts of the city. Whoops.

I inadvertently took just such a detour the other day and ended up being forty-five minutes late for one of my two-hour classes that afternoon. I was tempted to be frustrated (and may have indulged in a moment or two of said emotion), but then I just had to laugh.

Guess I should pay attention to my surroundings—even if I’m intently listening to the conversation in Spanish going on next to me.
And I hope the people on the second bus I boarded didn’t think I was having a seizure…it’s just that, once I was again happily on my way to the university and had a moment to pause and think, I had trouble containing my laughter over my little “mishap”.

Of all God’s gifts, laughter is one of my favorites.

A Saturday Outing

Yesterday morning I went to have breakfast with my friend Sandra. She is one of the wonderful Spanish friends God has brought into my life since my arrival in Alicante, and it has been such a pleasure getting to know her. How did we meet? Randomly enough, while waiting in line at the TAM (Transporte Alicante Metropolitano) to recharge our bus cards (though not randomly at all, considering how our good God cares for His children!). When I first saw Sandra, I figured that this confident-looking, beautiful Spanish gal would hardly be much interesting in talking to me. But I said “hello” anyway and asked her where she was from, and as it turned out, she was extremely friendly and happens to be studying English as part of a tourism management degree. We exchanged phone numbers then, and from there we’ve developed a wonderful friendship that I’ve no doubt will continue once I’ve flown back to the States.

Sandra and I

Sandra, like a number of patient friends here, has the uncanny ability—or, perhaps more accurately, makes a concerted effort—to speak in a way that is crystal clear and refreshingly understandable. (Which, considering my level of Spanish is quite an accomplishment on her part.) And if I am ever confused by a particular word or phrase, she is quick to catch on and to explain until I am un-confused. Sandra and I enjoy talking about all manner of different topics, but we also often end up simply discussing numerous different words, phrases, and language-features of both English and Spanish—a fascinating exercise for anyone who loves language. It has also been incredibly interesting to learn about Spanish culture from her. We talk about topics ranging from travel and entertainment to politics and systems of education, and I always come away from our get-togethers with an enriched perspective on Spanish culture. Sandra possesses an infectious sort of curiosity about the worl
d and a lively interest in travel and culture that seems to rub off on me when I’m with her.

During yesterday’s breakfast, after we’d chatted for a bit, Sandra kindly invited me to launch into a somewhat heated account of the difficulties I’ve been having with my prepaid phone. (I won’t bore you with the details, but basically, be careful if you ever use a prepaid phone in Spain—companies will swindle you for all you’re worth if you’re not careful. Such is the price of naivety, I suppose.) Anyway, once I’d explained, Sandra kindly offered to accompany me to the mobile phone store, which she subsequently did. Next, she took me to H&M and helped me shop for winter clothes. Several times during our three-hour outing, I felt the need to tell her that she really didn’t need to accompany me and that she should let me know if she had things to do and needed to go. Her response was, unvaryingly, that she wasn’t in a hurry and that she would be delighted to come with me. Which brings up a cultural characteristic that has repeatedly caught my attention
since I’ve been here: the Spanish always seem to have time for people. I mean, when was the last you accompanied someone while they ran errands or—as various neighbors have done when I’ve been with Spanish friends—woken up from a Sunday-afternoon nap to invite people into your home for tea and a spontaneous visit? This is type of hospitality and selflessness with one’s time that, to me anyway, seems comparatively rare in the US. It is, of course, important to be a good steward of one’s time and to strike a balance between focus and fellowship. But perhaps our priorities have become a bit skewed when we can find time to watch our favorite TV show each week, but don’t have much time to really love people and share our time with them? It’s food for thought, at any rate.

The Stand Out

What should you do if you want to be eye-catching in Spain? Forget the miniskirt–just don your tie-dyed volunteer shirt from the 2011 Erskine Orientation, and you’ll have people gawking at you all down the esplanade.

I guess tie-dye isn’t common in Spain?