Phone Rant
To try and fit in with both the Spanish culture and the modern times I decided to get a cell phone or a movíl. For the past two months or so I have gone without a phone using pay phones, calling cards and e-mail. A system that was not perfect because it was a little hit or miss in small towns, but right now it seems easier than having a cell phone. I did not have a problem planning to phone or meet people at certain times, but in the interest of looking for work it is best to have a phone number. In contrast to France and Ireland it is not possible to receive calls at phone booths in the street, however occasionally I did find bars or hostels with pay phones that were also used as the establishment´s phone and could arrange to have my parents call me back. One funny incident I had was in a small town, in a bar decorated with hunting trophies I was waiting for my sister to return my call and when I picked up the phone there was a Spanish woman on the other end. She was just as surprised and confused as I was and I managed to communicate to her to stay on the line, passed the phone to a man sitting at the bar and motioned for the bar owner to come over.
Most phones in Spain still accept coins, whereas in France they do not, but generally I buy phone cards from the local tobacco stores or newspaper kiosks. On one of my first days of the trip in Paris I had to make a phone call to meet someone and because it was a holiday there were no stores to buy phone cards open and I had to ask in the street until someone let me make a call. It was actually quite difficult because I was later told people probably thought I was trying to steal their phones. I feel like I go through phone cards like candy because they are generally cost 5-7 Euros and the phone system here is ridiculously expensive compared to Canada. I was told to get a fixed phone line you have to pay an outrageous installation fee (around 120 Euros and I imagine a considerable wait time), a monthly rental fee and then pay for all of your calls. In general it is less expensive to make calls in the evening which is after about 8-9pm and on weekends and if you are calling a mobile phone it usually costs twice as much as calling a fixed phone.
So getting a new phone did not make my life easier because I was faced with a steep learning curve. First to choose a phone company, there are three big companies in Spain which are Mobistar, Vodafone and Orange. After talking to different people it seemed like Vodafone was the most interesting for me, because a lot of young people have phones from that company and most of the English teachers I have met as well. Next I had to decide whether or not to sign-up for a contract or have a card that you pay as you go and since I didn´t feel ready to commit to an 18 month plan that decision was relatively easy. This meant I had to buy a phone and I chose a simple, inexpensive one. The next challenge was learning to use the phone and it became a language lesson because everything is in Spanish. First before I could use the phone I had to charge the battery and then before I could names and numbers in the address book I had to learn how to use the number pad as a keyboard. I basically decided to go chapter by chapter through the Spanish manual and did not try to make a phone call until the next day.
The first phone calls were easy and then I learned I had used up all the credit on my phone card. Apparently I had to call the phone company to have the phone plan I requested when I bought the phone set-up. It was not a very fun experience calling the phone company because after patiently waiting for an operator as soon as they heard my accent I was transferred a few times and then cut off. This happened a few times and I finally I was able to talk to someone, but the communication was difficult not so much for the language which is more challenging via the phone than in person, but because I kept being given standard replies that did not answer my questions. In any case I got my plan set-up and the next step was the voice mail.
Having an answering service is not very popular here and I find it frustrating. The argument I have heard is that it avoids having to pay for a call when you can´t reach the person, but if I am calling someone it is because I would like to tell them something and it wears on my patience having to call them five times. In any case I somehow managed to activate the answering service without understanding what the recorded voice was telling me. The most confusing thing about it was that to listen to my new messages I somehow keep getting asked to leave a voicemail.
The next thing I looked into was trying to find an inexpensive way to call Canada. I was told about another card for the phone I could get that has almost reasonable long distance rates. When I tried to buy the card I was told that it wouldn´t work in my phone and I had the option of buying another phone or getting my phone ´freed´ or unlocked. I went to a phone-fax-internet shop accross town to enquire about this service and was told it would cost about 20 Euros, about half the price that I paid for the phone and would take 1-3 days. I decided to try it because I was told if I left my phone right away I could have it back the next day instead of having to wait three days another time. The short story is I got my phone back a week later, was told it was unable to be unlocked and that in Spain there is a popular saying called ´mañana´ or tommorrow.
So other options I am looking into are the regular phone cards that have a mobile phone access number, however the one I tried gave me a reasonable rate but terrible reception. At this point I am thinking the best option for long distance is Skype or a voice over internet program or possibly the phone booths in the locutorio shops. If anyone has other suggestions let me know.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Searching for Saint Sebastien - a weekend adventure
After nearly ten days in the same city my feet were starting to get itchy to travel some more, so I decided to go away for the weekend. I am looking to stay in Lugo until June or so depending how things go teaching a few hours at an English Academy, studying Spanish and living with a Spanish-British family helping two boys age six and eight practise their English. I found some guide books for Spain at the local library and started reading about the many curious and unusual festivals that are celebrated in Spain. According to the book January 20th was St. Sebastien day and he is the patron saint of the Galician city Ponteverda so I decided to go there in search of a fiesta. The city is a two and a half hour bus ride from the Lugo twisting and turning through the mountains. In Ponteverda as I walked from the bus station to the centre of the city I found myself on the Avenida da Peregrina and I started seeing the familiar scallop shells again. Ponteverda like Lugo is on a Camino to Santiago, the former the portuguese path and the latter the primitive path. Right now it seems like the camino is everywhere I go because I even found yellow arrows while passing through Madrid. It was strange thinking it is January because the streets in Ponteverda were lined with colourful Orange and Lemon trees mixed in with Palm trees. I was a little disappointed to learn at the tourism office that there were no festivities planned in Ponteverda for the next day, so I started to look into exploring the surrounding area.
I was
told the town of Combarro was worth a visit and only six kilometres away, so with my new map in hand I walked accross the bridge and out of the city. One town followed another, so I didn´t really feel like I left the city at all and in about an hour or so I was walking on the beach. Combarro is quite small and what made it unique was along the water´s edge there was a row of Horréos, small granaries typical of Galicia and some intricate crucifixes. Because the tide was in the water came right up to the end of the streets in the old part of town and it felt a little like Venice. The first person I saw was a woman standing in the doorway of a tiny shop run out of her house. When I told her I was from Canada she told me that two Canadian families own appartments in the town and come and live there during the summer months. She also told me there was a pension further into the town next to what I understood was a landromat. When I got to the main square I saw some clothes hanging up to dry under a shelter that was built on a bit of a platform. When I got closer I saw below there was a stone wash basin that had a system of water running through it that seemed to come from a source further away in the mountains. Most people I´ve met in Spain seem to have washing machines, but despite the rain it is very rare to find a dryer.
In the morning I caught the bus to another town further up the coast called ´O Grove´ that was next to the island of A Toxa where according to my pamphlet on the region there was a chapel dedicated to San Sebastien. The island was attached to the town by a bridge, so I planned to walk there. It turned into a very strange experience because as I walked off the bridge the first thing I saw was a yellow building with tinted windows and sitting inside was a security guard. I was going to ask for directions, but he looked a little serious so instead I decided to stop and ask someone on the street. P
art of my trip was to get away from being in a city and constantly walking beside car traffic and what was the next thing I saw, but a parking lot full of antique cars lined up for a car rally. Most people were really excited to see the cars and were taking lots of photos, but I just walked by. Just past the luxury hotel, Spa and Casino complex that seemed to be sponsoring the event I saw a small garden and the church. The entire building was covered in small pink scallop shells. As I walked up to take a closer look I read the name posted on a paper outside the chapel and it said San Martiño (which I imagine is St. Martin in English and definitely not St. Sebastien), so much for the fiesta. I looked at the photo and then at the church and they were exactly the same, minus a few tourists so it had to be an error on the pamphlet. It´s all part of the adventure and discovering more of Galicia. It was a pretty little island, so I continued my walk around it. Not long after I walked past a sports complex and a golf course (the second I have seen in Spain). This was when I started being followed by a yellow security car driving very slowly just under the pace I was walking. To my left was a small forest area that seemed to be closed up and to my right was a walled off housing complex. There were big signs informing me that it was private property. I saw the bridge ahead and decided to leave because I didn´t really enjoy feeling stalked by the security presence.
I wandered around O Grove a bit and then decided to check back in at Ponteverda for any signs of a fiesta. No fiesta, but the same car rally I had seen in the morning seemed to have followed me and cars filled the pedestrian streets. At this point I debated going back to Lugo, but on my map I saw there were more towns to the South and in the bus station there seemed to be quite a few postcards from the town of Marin. I kind of wished I had been travelling with someone else and not always my own, but hopefully it won´t take long to get to know more people in Lugo. The big attraction in Marin seemed to be the walk along the port and I won´t lie that what I found more interesting was the walk alongside the Naval training school seeing the Spanish sailors in uniform.
The next morning I found what I was looking for which was a peaceful trail alongside the ocean without many cars. A couple kilometres out of Marin I read there were some petrogliphs on Mogor beach so I headed there. I was a little disappointed that when I crossed paths with people out walking their dogs that my ´Buenos Dias´ greetings were ignored and that generally as I approached people they looked away. The Galician character is a little bit strange that way and I don´t really understand it. In a lot of ways the countryside and the culture are quite similar to Ireland, but the people can be at times very reserved.
Back in Lugo reading the newspaper I found out that there was a festival of interest for St. Sebastien in a town called Cangas which is in fact not far from Pontevedra, so I guess I will know for next time...
After nearly ten days in the same city my feet were starting to get itchy to travel some more, so I decided to go away for the weekend. I am looking to stay in Lugo until June or so depending how things go teaching a few hours at an English Academy, studying Spanish and living with a Spanish-British family helping two boys age six and eight practise their English. I found some guide books for Spain at the local library and started reading about the many curious and unusual festivals that are celebrated in Spain. According to the book January 20th was St. Sebastien day and he is the patron saint of the Galician city Ponteverda so I decided to go there in search of a fiesta. The city is a two and a half hour bus ride from the Lugo twisting and turning through the mountains. In Ponteverda as I walked from the bus station to the centre of the city I found myself on the Avenida da Peregrina and I started seeing the familiar scallop shells again. Ponteverda like Lugo is on a Camino to Santiago, the former the portuguese path and the latter the primitive path. Right now it seems like the camino is everywhere I go because I even found yellow arrows while passing through Madrid. It was strange thinking it is January because the streets in Ponteverda were lined with colourful Orange and Lemon trees mixed in with Palm trees. I was a little disappointed to learn at the tourism office that there were no festivities planned in Ponteverda for the next day, so I started to look into exploring the surrounding area.
I was
told the town of Combarro was worth a visit and only six kilometres away, so with my new map in hand I walked accross the bridge and out of the city. One town followed another, so I didn´t really feel like I left the city at all and in about an hour or so I was walking on the beach. Combarro is quite small and what made it unique was along the water´s edge there was a row of Horréos, small granaries typical of Galicia and some intricate crucifixes. Because the tide was in the water came right up to the end of the streets in the old part of town and it felt a little like Venice. The first person I saw was a woman standing in the doorway of a tiny shop run out of her house. When I told her I was from Canada she told me that two Canadian families own appartments in the town and come and live there during the summer months. She also told me there was a pension further into the town next to what I understood was a landromat. When I got to the main square I saw some clothes hanging up to dry under a shelter that was built on a bit of a platform. When I got closer I saw below there was a stone wash basin that had a system of water running through it that seemed to come from a source further away in the mountains. Most people I´ve met in Spain seem to have washing machines, but despite the rain it is very rare to find a dryer.In the morning I caught the bus to another town further up the coast called ´O Grove´ that was next to the island of A Toxa where according to my pamphlet on the region there was a chapel dedicated to San Sebastien. The island was attached to the town by a bridge, so I planned to walk there. It turned into a very strange experience because as I walked off the bridge the first thing I saw was a yellow building with tinted windows and sitting inside was a security guard. I was going to ask for directions, but he looked a little serious so instead I decided to stop and ask someone on the street. P
art of my trip was to get away from being in a city and constantly walking beside car traffic and what was the next thing I saw, but a parking lot full of antique cars lined up for a car rally. Most people were really excited to see the cars and were taking lots of photos, but I just walked by. Just past the luxury hotel, Spa and Casino complex that seemed to be sponsoring the event I saw a small garden and the church. The entire building was covered in small pink scallop shells. As I walked up to take a closer look I read the name posted on a paper outside the chapel and it said San Martiño (which I imagine is St. Martin in English and definitely not St. Sebastien), so much for the fiesta. I looked at the photo and then at the church and they were exactly the same, minus a few tourists so it had to be an error on the pamphlet. It´s all part of the adventure and discovering more of Galicia. It was a pretty little island, so I continued my walk around it. Not long after I walked past a sports complex and a golf course (the second I have seen in Spain). This was when I started being followed by a yellow security car driving very slowly just under the pace I was walking. To my left was a small forest area that seemed to be closed up and to my right was a walled off housing complex. There were big signs informing me that it was private property. I saw the bridge ahead and decided to leave because I didn´t really enjoy feeling stalked by the security presence.I wandered around O Grove a bit and then decided to check back in at Ponteverda for any signs of a fiesta. No fiesta, but the same car rally I had seen in the morning seemed to have followed me and cars filled the pedestrian streets. At this point I debated going back to Lugo, but on my map I saw there were more towns to the South and in the bus station there seemed to be quite a few postcards from the town of Marin. I kind of wished I had been travelling with someone else and not always my own, but hopefully it won´t take long to get to know more people in Lugo. The big attraction in Marin seemed to be the walk along the port and I won´t lie that what I found more interesting was the walk alongside the Naval training school seeing the Spanish sailors in uniform.
The next morning I found what I was looking for which was a peaceful trail alongside the ocean without many cars. A couple kilometres out of Marin I read there were some petrogliphs on Mogor beach so I headed there. I was a little disappointed that when I crossed paths with people out walking their dogs that my ´Buenos Dias´ greetings were ignored and that generally as I approached people they looked away. The Galician character is a little bit strange that way and I don´t really understand it. In a lot of ways the countryside and the culture are quite similar to Ireland, but the people can be at times very reserved.
Back in Lugo reading the newspaper I found out that there was a festival of interest for St. Sebastien in a town called Cangas which is in fact not far from Pontevedra, so I guess I will know for next time...
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Learning about Lugo
When I first saw the city of Lugo, Galicia driving through on the bus I thought ´tiene buena pinta´, a Spanish expression that literally means to have a good colour. I thought this because the streets were full of people running a race and for me it made a good first impression. People keep asking me ´why I am in Lugo´ and to be honest I am also asking myself that question. I am looking for work here because I want to learn more about Galicia and spend more time in Spain. A friend told me the city of Lugo was a nice city for me, not too big, two beautiful rivers and a historic walled city centre that is like a big castle. I told myself a while ago that I would stop moving places where I didn´t know anyone and here I am again. I was scared getting off the bus and walking into the city. I really did not do any proper research on the city, but here I am. After I dropped off my bag at the youth hostel I started to wander around to get a feel for the city. I discovered a beautiful cathedral and a friendly city centre. I walked into the tourism office and announced I wanted to look for work. The whole idea is completly crazy and if nothing else it will be learning experience. It has been a precarious few days here trying to find a balance between trying to figure things out, slowing down and not worrying too much. I have sort of been treating it as a fact-finding mission.
To report on this research I have been to the eight private language academies that are listed in the yellow pages with my resume. I have been told that most of the hiring is done in the summer for a September to June contract and that there is also an interest for ´native´ teachers to help out with summer camp and travel programs. As a general rule foreigners find other foreigners and within my first 24 hours here I was introduced to a Portuguese-Canadian who is working here. She brought me to the weekly quiz night at an Irish pub and I met most of the other English teachers working here. Some of them are working at ´native English´ speaking positions at the University, Escuela Oficial de Idiomas (E.O.I.), a few other unlisted private academies, private school and an assistant program similar to the one I did in France to work in a local high school (according to the website Canadians can apply http://www.sgci.mec.es/usa/AC/indexing.shtml ) It seems that most people arrive after they have a contract they heard about through the Internet or friends. So now I have to think about do I stay in Lugo and offer private classes or work as an Au pair or do I look for a contract in another part of Spain...
Part two of my research has also been finding out options to study Spanish. I was surprised the E.O.I did not have any Spanish classes because that is where I went in Bilbao. I have since learned there are classes for new immigrants at the Escuela por adultos (E.P.A), at municipal community centres, potentially at the University, but I think it is just for Erasmus or international students and then I am also told at the Red Cross.
Part three has been finding where to have Internet access. It is free at the Library and a Cyber cafe run by a local bank and then available at a low cost at Locutorio shops. I have been using my youth hostel address when I need to be a resident.
Saturday I decided to enjoy Lugo and went to the provincial museum and was very intrigued by an exhibit which can actually be seen on-line http://www.r-gonzalezfernandez.com/OBRA_DEL_MES/MES_ACTUAL_OK.htm . That evening I went out with some of the English teachers to get a taste of Spanish night life. We met early at 11:00pm and there was only about a handful of people in the bars and clubs until about 2am and then things started. I missed the smoke-free laws in Canada and it was a little crazy that most clubs only seemed to have one toilet. I went to bed early around 5am, but by that time we had moved from one club with English pop music, to a bigger place playing more popular Spanish music and then to 70s style club with a really good D.J.
When I first saw the city of Lugo, Galicia driving through on the bus I thought ´tiene buena pinta´, a Spanish expression that literally means to have a good colour. I thought this because the streets were full of people running a race and for me it made a good first impression. People keep asking me ´why I am in Lugo´ and to be honest I am also asking myself that question. I am looking for work here because I want to learn more about Galicia and spend more time in Spain. A friend told me the city of Lugo was a nice city for me, not too big, two beautiful rivers and a historic walled city centre that is like a big castle. I told myself a while ago that I would stop moving places where I didn´t know anyone and here I am again. I was scared getting off the bus and walking into the city. I really did not do any proper research on the city, but here I am. After I dropped off my bag at the youth hostel I started to wander around to get a feel for the city. I discovered a beautiful cathedral and a friendly city centre. I walked into the tourism office and announced I wanted to look for work. The whole idea is completly crazy and if nothing else it will be learning experience. It has been a precarious few days here trying to find a balance between trying to figure things out, slowing down and not worrying too much. I have sort of been treating it as a fact-finding mission.
To report on this research I have been to the eight private language academies that are listed in the yellow pages with my resume. I have been told that most of the hiring is done in the summer for a September to June contract and that there is also an interest for ´native´ teachers to help out with summer camp and travel programs. As a general rule foreigners find other foreigners and within my first 24 hours here I was introduced to a Portuguese-Canadian who is working here. She brought me to the weekly quiz night at an Irish pub and I met most of the other English teachers working here. Some of them are working at ´native English´ speaking positions at the University, Escuela Oficial de Idiomas (E.O.I.), a few other unlisted private academies, private school and an assistant program similar to the one I did in France to work in a local high school (according to the website Canadians can apply http://www.sgci.mec.es/usa/AC/indexing.shtml ) It seems that most people arrive after they have a contract they heard about through the Internet or friends. So now I have to think about do I stay in Lugo and offer private classes or work as an Au pair or do I look for a contract in another part of Spain...
Part two of my research has also been finding out options to study Spanish. I was surprised the E.O.I did not have any Spanish classes because that is where I went in Bilbao. I have since learned there are classes for new immigrants at the Escuela por adultos (E.P.A), at municipal community centres, potentially at the University, but I think it is just for Erasmus or international students and then I am also told at the Red Cross.
Part three has been finding where to have Internet access. It is free at the Library and a Cyber cafe run by a local bank and then available at a low cost at Locutorio shops. I have been using my youth hostel address when I need to be a resident.
Saturday I decided to enjoy Lugo and went to the provincial museum and was very intrigued by an exhibit which can actually be seen on-line http://www.r-gonzalezfernandez.com/OBRA_DEL_MES/MES_ACTUAL_OK.htm . That evening I went out with some of the English teachers to get a taste of Spanish night life. We met early at 11:00pm and there was only about a handful of people in the bars and clubs until about 2am and then things started. I missed the smoke-free laws in Canada and it was a little crazy that most clubs only seemed to have one toilet. I went to bed early around 5am, but by that time we had moved from one club with English pop music, to a bigger place playing more popular Spanish music and then to 70s style club with a really good D.J.
Translations
Before I continue with the Spanish adventures I want to share a few fun things I learned about the Croatian language. First the common salutation for hello/good bye is ´bok´and at times I felt a bit like chicken greeting people. Since I was mostly with Spanish people they didn´t really notice. What was funny with them was the word ´okay´ in Spanish which is ´vale´ pronounced a little like ballet and is frequently used in conversation and then we learned ´vale´ in Croatian means snot. For the most part I think it went unnoticed because when people are speaking a language you don´t understand I find I don´t really listen to it. However when you can´t speak a foreign language you tend to respond with your own, so you can imagine a breakfast conversation where the grandmother asks ´would you like some jam´ which can be understood through gestures and you respond ´okay´ and she understands ´snot´. I also found it interesting to learn the word for grandmother in Croatian is ´vaca´ which is cow in Spanish, the word for ´slowly´ in Croatian is ´pollacko´ which in Spanish is a person from Poland and then the word for hope in croatian is ´nada´ which in Spanish is ´nothing´. I enjoyed that water was ´voda´, missing the ´k´ for another type of drink and it is also pronounced the same as the word for wedding in Spanish (boda). I was very lucky most people spoke English, but I had studied a few key words on the train ride to be prepared - yes (da), no (ne), sorry (oprostite), please (molin vas), thank you (hvala) and hello/goodbye (bok).
Back in Spain I find it quite funny when people casually tell me they are ´constipada´ even though they are only telling me their nose is stuffed up I can´t help but smile.
Before I continue with the Spanish adventures I want to share a few fun things I learned about the Croatian language. First the common salutation for hello/good bye is ´bok´and at times I felt a bit like chicken greeting people. Since I was mostly with Spanish people they didn´t really notice. What was funny with them was the word ´okay´ in Spanish which is ´vale´ pronounced a little like ballet and is frequently used in conversation and then we learned ´vale´ in Croatian means snot. For the most part I think it went unnoticed because when people are speaking a language you don´t understand I find I don´t really listen to it. However when you can´t speak a foreign language you tend to respond with your own, so you can imagine a breakfast conversation where the grandmother asks ´would you like some jam´ which can be understood through gestures and you respond ´okay´ and she understands ´snot´. I also found it interesting to learn the word for grandmother in Croatian is ´vaca´ which is cow in Spanish, the word for ´slowly´ in Croatian is ´pollacko´ which in Spanish is a person from Poland and then the word for hope in croatian is ´nada´ which in Spanish is ´nothing´. I enjoyed that water was ´voda´, missing the ´k´ for another type of drink and it is also pronounced the same as the word for wedding in Spanish (boda). I was very lucky most people spoke English, but I had studied a few key words on the train ride to be prepared - yes (da), no (ne), sorry (oprostite), please (molin vas), thank you (hvala) and hello/goodbye (bok).
Back in Spain I find it quite funny when people casually tell me they are ´constipada´ even though they are only telling me their nose is stuffed up I can´t help but smile.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Travelling to Croatia
I would like to try and share my experience of the European Taize meeting in Zagreb, Croatia. First I should explain a little bit about Taize. It is a small town you can find in South western France, an ecumenical Christian community that welcomes young people from around the world for week long retreats and third a type of prayer that consists of a few lines that are sung and repeated a little bit like Gregorian chants. The European meeting is an annual event organized in different cities across Europe for the New Year. This year was the 29th meeting and from what I understand there were about 40.000 young people in attendance. I travelled with a small group of 14 from various regions of Spain that I got in touch with by e-mailing some of the contact names on Taize website. The group met up in airport in Madrid and train station in Venice and we travelled together on the overnight train to be in Zagreb between December 28th to January 1st. Arriving in Zagreb we were assigned to different host parishes, given volunteer tasks and brought to host families around the city where we could stay. There was a busy schedule planned for the five days of the meeting that included prayers (morning, noon and evening), parish activities in the morning and a variety of workshops in the afternoon. Breakfast was prepared by the family and lunch and supper were served assembly line style in plastic bags with various items that usually included a heated can of stew, a bun and fruit. Most of the activities took place on in buildings on exhibition grounds, involved sitting on the ground and travelling in jam packed trams and buses. My volunteer task was to help direct an overwhelming number of people into the dining hall during the two hour supper time. The weather was cooler than Spain, but not that bad considering the season. One morning I caught a glimpse of snow, but I was warm with my Basque friend’s jacket. The trip itself was another type of pilgrimage, described in my program as a pilgrimage of trust on earth. For me it was a new experience and challenge to travel with a group.
That is a basic overview of the logistics of the event that was quite well prepared for that number of people. My previous Taize experiences have been limited to prayer nights and weekends in Ottawa. I think there were only about 200 people at the Ottawa weekend meeting last year. It will probably be different this year as there are plans for a Canada wide meeting in Montreal in April 2007.
Before I start a novel, the three main things I got out of the experience was first the amazing welcome the families and city of Zagreb gave us, the personal learning experience I had travelling with a group and a very good small group discussion I had in a workshop on how to discover God´s call. There is a saying that Zagreb gives you its heart because it would like you to return. This is represented by small heart biscuits that are popular souvenirs from the city and by the generosity of the people living there. I heard many incredible stories and one that I experienced is when my roommate and I were lost one night we were guided by an older gentleman who insisted on buying us some sweets before leaving us at the house.
Travelling with the Spanish group I got see my impatient side when things weren’t very organized. Learning about yourself through other people is both challenging and rewarding. Our return travel ended up different than planned. Arriving in Venice I learned the return train tickets from Zagreb had not yet been purchased and there were not any left. After a few days at the meeting we eventually found an Italian group with space in their bus to help us out.
Thirdly I had a very good experience with a small group in one of the workshops. For once I was an active participant in the discussions and it was reassuring to talk with people with similar fears and questions. I don´t think we necessarily found any big answers, but I had a sense of peace talking about how life and faith are not simple. It´s more about moving forward with small steps not knowing all the answers, learning from challenges and aiming to be closer to God. My new year´s resolution is to try and be happy with where I am at and reflect on what I have learned through my travels.
I would like to try and share my experience of the European Taize meeting in Zagreb, Croatia. First I should explain a little bit about Taize. It is a small town you can find in South western France, an ecumenical Christian community that welcomes young people from around the world for week long retreats and third a type of prayer that consists of a few lines that are sung and repeated a little bit like Gregorian chants. The European meeting is an annual event organized in different cities across Europe for the New Year. This year was the 29th meeting and from what I understand there were about 40.000 young people in attendance. I travelled with a small group of 14 from various regions of Spain that I got in touch with by e-mailing some of the contact names on Taize website. The group met up in airport in Madrid and train station in Venice and we travelled together on the overnight train to be in Zagreb between December 28th to January 1st. Arriving in Zagreb we were assigned to different host parishes, given volunteer tasks and brought to host families around the city where we could stay. There was a busy schedule planned for the five days of the meeting that included prayers (morning, noon and evening), parish activities in the morning and a variety of workshops in the afternoon. Breakfast was prepared by the family and lunch and supper were served assembly line style in plastic bags with various items that usually included a heated can of stew, a bun and fruit. Most of the activities took place on in buildings on exhibition grounds, involved sitting on the ground and travelling in jam packed trams and buses. My volunteer task was to help direct an overwhelming number of people into the dining hall during the two hour supper time. The weather was cooler than Spain, but not that bad considering the season. One morning I caught a glimpse of snow, but I was warm with my Basque friend’s jacket. The trip itself was another type of pilgrimage, described in my program as a pilgrimage of trust on earth. For me it was a new experience and challenge to travel with a group.
That is a basic overview of the logistics of the event that was quite well prepared for that number of people. My previous Taize experiences have been limited to prayer nights and weekends in Ottawa. I think there were only about 200 people at the Ottawa weekend meeting last year. It will probably be different this year as there are plans for a Canada wide meeting in Montreal in April 2007.
Before I start a novel, the three main things I got out of the experience was first the amazing welcome the families and city of Zagreb gave us, the personal learning experience I had travelling with a group and a very good small group discussion I had in a workshop on how to discover God´s call. There is a saying that Zagreb gives you its heart because it would like you to return. This is represented by small heart biscuits that are popular souvenirs from the city and by the generosity of the people living there. I heard many incredible stories and one that I experienced is when my roommate and I were lost one night we were guided by an older gentleman who insisted on buying us some sweets before leaving us at the house.
Travelling with the Spanish group I got see my impatient side when things weren’t very organized. Learning about yourself through other people is both challenging and rewarding. Our return travel ended up different than planned. Arriving in Venice I learned the return train tickets from Zagreb had not yet been purchased and there were not any left. After a few days at the meeting we eventually found an Italian group with space in their bus to help us out.
Thirdly I had a very good experience with a small group in one of the workshops. For once I was an active participant in the discussions and it was reassuring to talk with people with similar fears and questions. I don´t think we necessarily found any big answers, but I had a sense of peace talking about how life and faith are not simple. It´s more about moving forward with small steps not knowing all the answers, learning from challenges and aiming to be closer to God. My new year´s resolution is to try and be happy with where I am at and reflect on what I have learned through my travels.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Christmas traditions- part two
In other parts of Spain January 6th, Epiphany overshadows December 25th. Children write their letters to the three kings who leave them gifts by the shoes they leave out on January 5th. Being with my friend in Guadalajara, a city near Madrid I could not help, but get caught up in the excitement.
It is interesting to note that because of the gift exchange on the 6th the commercial boxing day is then pushed back to January 7th. However before I get there December 28th, Dia de los Innocentes when King Herod ordered the murder of innocent children, is perversely celebrated like April Fool´s day. Jokes and pranks are pulled on ´Innocente´ or naive people. I missed out being in Croatia for the European Taize meeting, but travelling with a group from Spain I did celebrate New Years Eve by eating grapes. In Spain the tradition is to eat twelve grapes for twelve wishes as the bells ring in the new year. Each person is given twelve grapes in a cup and you have to eat fast. I will write about the Taize trip later, but if you want to find out more now there is some information on the Taize website http://www.taize.fr/
Back in Spain leading up to the 6th children can have their photos taken with one of the Kings and there is also a parade on the night of the 5th. I got see part of the parade and cheer as people in middle eastern dress paraded down the street with torches and laterns. It definitely had an exotic feel as camels walked by carrying gifts and the ornately dressed Kings arrived on elephants throwing candy to the crowds. I am told in other parts of Spain the Kings sometimes arrive by boat or by helicopter. It is also reported on the national news when the Kings arrive and the following day we saw a documentary of a film crew that almost caught the Kings in one house, but in the end all they found was a white glove that was left behind. In the morning after opening the gifts we shared a ´roscon de los reyes´ a special pastry that is prepared for the sixth. Similar to France if you find a small porcelain character inside you are crowned King and if you get a piece with a bean, or something hard you have to pay for the cake.
In the midst of all this celebration I have seen very little Christmas trees. In contrast most houses have a nativity scene. My friend Mamen told me their family added a few extra characters meaning the Kinder Surprise creatures, but I thought she meant the castle. I was told it is quite normal to have King Harold´s castle and even a representation of the entire village. In Catalan it is popular to have a squatting man defecating as part of the display. There are also beautiful Christmas lights decorating the cities, not so much on the houses ( or rather appartment buildings because very few people live in houses here), but the lights are on the trees, in the main squares and important buildings.
Happy New Year ! Feliz Año Nuevo ! Urte Berri On !
I am on my way back to Galicia to explore the idea of looking for work there.
In other parts of Spain January 6th, Epiphany overshadows December 25th. Children write their letters to the three kings who leave them gifts by the shoes they leave out on January 5th. Being with my friend in Guadalajara, a city near Madrid I could not help, but get caught up in the excitement.
It is interesting to note that because of the gift exchange on the 6th the commercial boxing day is then pushed back to January 7th. However before I get there December 28th, Dia de los Innocentes when King Herod ordered the murder of innocent children, is perversely celebrated like April Fool´s day. Jokes and pranks are pulled on ´Innocente´ or naive people. I missed out being in Croatia for the European Taize meeting, but travelling with a group from Spain I did celebrate New Years Eve by eating grapes. In Spain the tradition is to eat twelve grapes for twelve wishes as the bells ring in the new year. Each person is given twelve grapes in a cup and you have to eat fast. I will write about the Taize trip later, but if you want to find out more now there is some information on the Taize website http://www.taize.fr/
Back in Spain leading up to the 6th children can have their photos taken with one of the Kings and there is also a parade on the night of the 5th. I got see part of the parade and cheer as people in middle eastern dress paraded down the street with torches and laterns. It definitely had an exotic feel as camels walked by carrying gifts and the ornately dressed Kings arrived on elephants throwing candy to the crowds. I am told in other parts of Spain the Kings sometimes arrive by boat or by helicopter. It is also reported on the national news when the Kings arrive and the following day we saw a documentary of a film crew that almost caught the Kings in one house, but in the end all they found was a white glove that was left behind. In the morning after opening the gifts we shared a ´roscon de los reyes´ a special pastry that is prepared for the sixth. Similar to France if you find a small porcelain character inside you are crowned King and if you get a piece with a bean, or something hard you have to pay for the cake.In the midst of all this celebration I have seen very little Christmas trees. In contrast most houses have a nativity scene. My friend Mamen told me their family added a few extra characters meaning the Kinder Surprise creatures, but I thought she meant the castle. I was told it is quite normal to have King Harold´s castle and even a representation of the entire village. In Catalan it is popular to have a squatting man defecating as part of the display. There are also beautiful Christmas lights decorating the cities, not so much on the houses ( or rather appartment buildings because very few people live in houses here), but the lights are on the trees, in the main squares and important buildings.
Happy New Year ! Feliz Año Nuevo ! Urte Berri On !
I am on my way back to Galicia to explore the idea of looking for work there.
Christmas Traditions- part one
There are so many it´s hard to know where to start. First leading up to Christmas there is a lottery called ´El Gordo de Navidad´ that seems to be quite popular all accross Spain. The numbers are drawn and sung out by children two days before Christmas on national television. On a bit of a side note when I first saw posters for the lottery I thought they were ads for a strange films about a fat man who arrived for Christmas. From what I understand the jackpot was 13 million Euros. My friend´s mom suggested that the lottery day is also the day of health for everyone who does not win to remember to be happy about their health.
On December 24th I went to a small town outside of Bilbao to see Olentxero, the basque santa, come down from the mountain. According to one of the legends, which my friend Goizalde translated from Euskerra to Spanish for me, he was the youngest of a group of giants called ´Gentils´ that lived at one time in the basque mountains making coal. The race of giants were known to be dark, hairy men who were hardworking and caring. One day the giants saw a bright light in the sky and they knew ´Kismi´, the Christ was born and that their pagan world would come to an end. To try and escape the light all of the giants started to run and when they stopped a moment to rest a large rock, known as ´Gentileria´ fell from the sky killing all except Olentxero. He continued to run and run and finally arrived at a town where his friends lived. As he entered he yelled into the streets ´Kismi ha nacido´, the Christ is born. All of the townsfolk came out into the street bringing food and drink for the messenger who was very hungry and thirsty. He drank 5 litres of wine and ate so much food that he could no longer stand up. The towns folk built a ladder like support to carry him around the town and continue the fiesta.
In some ways today Olentxero has now evolved into the North American Santa Claus. In the traditional songs he is desribed as a wise man with a large head and belly. He wears a basque Chapela hat and smokes a pipe. We had to sing the following song in Euskerra so that he would come down from the mountain:
Ator, ator mutil etxera,
gaztaina zimelak jatera.
Gabon gaba ospatutzeko
aitaren ta amaren ondoan.
Ikusiko dok aita barrezka,
ama be poz atseginez
Eragiok mutil
aurreko danbolin horri.
Gaztainak erre artian,
gaztainak erre artian
txipli, txapla, plun.
Gabon gaba pozik igaro dai
I don´t really understand any of it except I was told ´ator´ means ´come´ and Olentxero made his entrance with his donkey to a crowd of cheering children. They got to sit on his knee and were given a hug and bag of a candy. For those that are naughty there is candy coal. For the rest of the morning we listened to traditional music and improvised dance steps. It also seemed to be ´Dia del pan´ and there was a bread competition with about fifty loaves of bread. Three judges sampled slices rating the crust, taste, texture and appearance while sipping on wine.
The basque tradition is to have a small family meal on Christmas eve and a gift exchange. The next day on the 25th I was invited to join the larger family meal with a group of about thirty people for a feast of seafood and other dishes.
There are so many it´s hard to know where to start. First leading up to Christmas there is a lottery called ´El Gordo de Navidad´ that seems to be quite popular all accross Spain. The numbers are drawn and sung out by children two days before Christmas on national television. On a bit of a side note when I first saw posters for the lottery I thought they were ads for a strange films about a fat man who arrived for Christmas. From what I understand the jackpot was 13 million Euros. My friend´s mom suggested that the lottery day is also the day of health for everyone who does not win to remember to be happy about their health.
On December 24th I went to a small town outside of Bilbao to see Olentxero, the basque santa, come down from the mountain. According to one of the legends, which my friend Goizalde translated from Euskerra to Spanish for me, he was the youngest of a group of giants called ´Gentils´ that lived at one time in the basque mountains making coal. The race of giants were known to be dark, hairy men who were hardworking and caring. One day the giants saw a bright light in the sky and they knew ´Kismi´, the Christ was born and that their pagan world would come to an end. To try and escape the light all of the giants started to run and when they stopped a moment to rest a large rock, known as ´Gentileria´ fell from the sky killing all except Olentxero. He continued to run and run and finally arrived at a town where his friends lived. As he entered he yelled into the streets ´Kismi ha nacido´, the Christ is born. All of the townsfolk came out into the street bringing food and drink for the messenger who was very hungry and thirsty. He drank 5 litres of wine and ate so much food that he could no longer stand up. The towns folk built a ladder like support to carry him around the town and continue the fiesta.
In some ways today Olentxero has now evolved into the North American Santa Claus. In the traditional songs he is desribed as a wise man with a large head and belly. He wears a basque Chapela hat and smokes a pipe. We had to sing the following song in Euskerra so that he would come down from the mountain:
Ator, ator mutil etxera,
gaztaina zimelak jatera.
Gabon gaba ospatutzeko
aitaren ta amaren ondoan.
Ikusiko dok aita barrezka,
ama be poz atseginez
Eragiok mutil
aurreko danbolin horri.
Gaztainak erre artian,
gaztainak erre artian
txipli, txapla, plun.
Gabon gaba pozik igaro dai
I don´t really understand any of it except I was told ´ator´ means ´come´ and Olentxero made his entrance with his donkey to a crowd of cheering children. They got to sit on his knee and were given a hug and bag of a candy. For those that are naughty there is candy coal. For the rest of the morning we listened to traditional music and improvised dance steps. It also seemed to be ´Dia del pan´ and there was a bread competition with about fifty loaves of bread. Three judges sampled slices rating the crust, taste, texture and appearance while sipping on wine.
The basque tradition is to have a small family meal on Christmas eve and a gift exchange. The next day on the 25th I was invited to join the larger family meal with a group of about thirty people for a feast of seafood and other dishes.
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