Take a day, push back everything you do by two hours, then add in relaxed and leisurely conversations, meals and walks… this is Spanish time. From what we have observed, here is a typical Spanish timeline adapted to a schedule that works for us.
8am- Coffee and toast or croissants for breakfast, (we add eggs), then Noah, Natalie and I start school and Paul heads into his little office to work. The kids usually wrap up lessons by 10:30am and I send them out to play until I call them in for math around noon.
Working on school. This schedule has changed a bit since we first moved to Spain, but I’m really enjoying what we do each day and feel like Noah and Natalie are getting a good educational foundation, mixed with the unique benefits of our journey abroad.
12pm- Paul takes a three hour break from 12pm-3pm and we really enjoy using this time to take a walk, get groceries, eat dinner, and just enjoy family time together.
We enjoy walking the path to the river…
and see lots of “life” along the way!
The break also allows time for European haircuts!
Much better!
2pm- Main and largest meal of the day eaten with family over the long siesta time. This usually consists of a few courses including salad, bread, cheese/olives, main dishes, and wine, of course. Most shops close from 2-5pm and families take the time to eat, talk, take a short nap or just rest. It took a few times of us walking around town to realize that Spaniards really do have siestas! There is no one around, nothing is open, and we are expected to be quiet.
Peaceful and quiet time at our house.
3pm- Paul works from 3-7pm in order to line up with his co-worker’s morning (8am-12pm in Sioux Falls). The kids and I spend time reading out loud (our latest choice is “Heidi” as we look at the mountains and pretend they are the Alps), playing outside, creating art, making a fire for the evening, and starting dinner.
The latest activity of choice is…
MUD CREATIONS.
The olive tree grove is a favorite spot to play.
Painting the mountains.
Throwing out the old ashes to get ready to make a new fire.
After a couple of cold weeks, we figured out how to make a fire that heats well.
Noah and Natalie listen to “Heidi” near their mountains, then pretend to be Heidi and Peter the goatherd.
7pm- we eat dinner, but most Spaniards wait until 9pm or later to eat dinner together. Dinner is usually a very light affair- yogurt, oranges and muesli, a veggie salad with olive oil and vinegar, or some soup.
8:30- 10pm is tappas hour, where families might go out to the local bars and restaurants for conversation over small plates of food and drinks. We tried this once, but we are usually in bed by this time! Instead, we have enjoyed having tappas earlier in the day, usually before the 2pm dinner.
Trying Spanish croquetas.
We all agree, “good”.
When we first arrived, I had to remind myself to not look to the clock for my schedule, and instead enjoy the slower pace that focuses on relationships and family, rather than efficiency. It is a pace that I have slowly adopted and one that I hope to maintain no matter where I am and how the culture around me operates.
A few days after celebrating Three Kings Day, we made our way back to the Barcelona airport to fly south. Walking through the airport again, we all commented on how different it was this time around; we were not quite as exhausted, for one, and everything was so much more familiar! We took our short flight south and gaped at the views that we could see from the plane window. Breathtakingly beautiful are not adequate words to describe the mountains, rolling hills, and tiny white towns tucked under blue skies.
On the path to our house.
As gorgeous as our scenery was, the first few days at our new little home were challenging, though it’s kind of hard to describe why.
For one, we were cold. There is only a small wood stove in the kitchen to heat the place, and we had never had to rely on a wood stove for heat before, so we didn’t really know what we were doing. I also was not prepared to be cold- I had come to Spain to escape the cold! So wearing two pairs of wool socks, shoes, two pants and multiple tops and jackets was a little too reminiscent of January back home, without the simple thermostat to turn up.
Second, the cultural and language barriers were starting to sting. It’s hard to always feel like an outsider, never really understanding the unwritten rules and not knowing how to ask for what you really want. Or, even the cultural difference of being afraid for your life as you drive on a seemingly one-lane road with no rail around the side of a mountain; it adds a bit of stress to life.
Also, we love each other, but after having lived with dear friends and family constantly for six months in a row to now only having the four of us for our constant companions, dinner-dates, playmates and conversationalists, we felt the need for a little more space!
It’s been two weeks as I’m writing this, and I can now say with confidence that we are living in a slice of Paradise. We conquered the wood stove, Paul can drive around the mountains without feeling like we will fall off, we have decided not to worry how touristy we look/sound/feel, and most importantly, we are learning how to truly enjoy our family time together. It took time, patience and trusting that we are here on purpose to be able to look out the window and absorb the tapestry of beauty that God had woven in front of our eyes.
There ain’t no party like a Spanish party… ahem, “fiesta”… and the holidays were great celebrations for us to experience! Each had their own quirky flair and it was fun to compare our traditions with Spain’s.
We arrived mid-december, so the first holiday we observed was Christmas. There were some reindeer lights strung along the tops of streets, many stores had signs of “Bon Nadal” (Catalan for “Good Christmas”), English Christmas songs were playing at the grocery store, and there were little stuffed Santas hanging from balconies (I guess there aren’t chimneys here, so Santa had to be creative). We didn’t notice an over-abundance of decorations and general hoopla, though. Just a smattering of reminders.
Can you see Santa hanging onto the balcony?
Reindeer even fly in Spain!
A new tradition that we probably won’t carry back with us is the Catalan tradition of “Caga Tió”, which means “Poop Log” (that’s actually a nicer translation from the original). Basically, the kids each have a little wooden log in the home, as well as a large, community log in the village square, that has a little happy face on the end. Everyday the kids feed it little scraps of food or orange peels, cover it with a blanket and take care of it. On Christmas Eve, everyone gathers and the kids get sticks. Then, they beat the log while singing a sweet song about: “Poop Log! If you don’t, I will beat you will a stick!” Then, they lift off the blanket on it’s back and find their presents! These are usually little gifts for everyone to share, no big gifts (those are reserved for Three Kings day, later).
While we did not participate in the log beating celebration, we did enjoy our own Christmas fun! We had promised the kids a time to play at the beach, so we walked down the street in our coats and headed out to the sand. The kids had decked themselves in swimsuits, and even though every native Spaniard probably thought we had gone crazy, we let the kids splash in the waves and sand for an hour, despite blue lips and red skin. The loved every minute, and the walk home warmed us up. Arriving home, we had a traditional Christmas Catalan meal together. I made a soup with large, round pasta filled with sausage, a big salad, then lots of seafood and wine. Then we opened a few *tiny* presents that had been tucked along and the kids were thrilled with each one. Ending the evening with last year’s Christmas PJs while Paul read the Luke 2 passage by candlelight was a lovely combination of old, new, traditional, and familiar.
Christmas Day was filled with Spanish pastries from a local bakery, calling Grandparents to video chat, and taking the kids to the local amusement park. They chose two rides each and enjoyed jumping in special harnesses to touch the sky, then crashing into each other with bumper cars; it was a great display of their sibling affections.
The next holiday was New Year’s. We didn’t join in the midnight party, but we did make their version of frozen pizzas (not worth repeating) and repeating the tradition of 12 grapes. At each strike of the bell at midnight it is tradition to eat one grape, which will give you luck for each of the twelve months ahead. So, I found a bunch of grapes at the local farmers market and we put them in a bowl. At 8pm Paul put the sounds of a midnight bell on his computer and then he and the kids ate their grapes. Sounds easy, right? Ha, these “fresh” grapes had seeds in them and were huge and juicy! Natalie looked like an over stuffed chipmunk and was almost crying at stroke 10! It was all in good fun, though, and we ended the evening watching a movie together.
The last holiday celebration was by far our favorite, and a favorite of the entire country, too. El Día del Reyes, the day of the kings, or Three Kings Day, or Epiphany, celebrates when the three magi came to bring gifts to baby Jesus. In Spain it is celebrated with huge parades, a live nativity, a special cake, and gifts.
On the evening of Three Kings Day we waited with hundreds of people in our small Spanish town as the parade warmed up. Music was blaring, people were costumed and the crowds were humming. We watched as each of the three kings and their entourages lined up. Each king sat on a large decked-out throne with their assistant, followed by musicians and their kingly subjects(?). There was candy thrown everywhere and my kids stuffed the pretty candy in their pockets for later. We watched the short parade go through, then walked up to the live nativity. And live means LIVE. There were chickens, donkeys, sheep, roman soldiers with big fires, and a platform with a wooded stable for Mary and Joseph. People were everywhere, and nice little old ladies and men were serving grilled bread dripping with olive oil. Making our way back to our apartment, we soon saw that the parade came right past our door, so we watched it again. Being some of the only children, the paraders loaded Noah and Natalie with candy, some just coming up and putting it into their hands.
After the fun with parades and live nativities, we came back to the apartment to slice the large Three Kings Cake we had bought from a local bakery. It is a pretty cake and tastes like a sweet brea, and it has candied fruit on top. The tradition is that there are objects hidden inside. Whoever gets the piece with the bean in it has to pay for the cake, and whoever gets the piece with the little king figurine is treated like royalty for the day. Each of us chose the slice we wanted and dug in… Noah found the bean and I found the king! Somehow, I still paid for the cake and never saw my crown, but we all enjoyed the cake!
Before bed that night, each child set their boots by the window balcony for the Three Kings to fill with gifts. When they woke up in the morning, they were delighted to find an orange, a piece of the candy I had confiscated, some Euro coins, and a rolled up picture. They had been begging for the next audiobook in a series they are listening to, and the paper showed that we had purchased the next book and it was ready for them to hear.
Overall, we felt like we were able to get a good taste of the Spanish holidays while still enjoying our own traditions with a wonderful slice of peace. It was unique and refreshing.
When I tour a building in midwestern United States, I am awed at a house that is over 200 years old. In Europe, a house only 200 years old is considered “new construction”. Everywhere we look, there are ruins from the Romans, castles over a century old, and homes built before my country had even declared a title.
In Calafell, there are two structures that we visited- the castle a few blocks behind our house, and a small city whose ruins were discovered from the indigenous peoples living there before Rome took over the Iberian Peninsula. The castle was small, but had all of the pieces that Noah had studied in his books- walls, towers, prison, holes to shoot arrows, church bells, etc. After looking out to the sea from the castle wall, I am certain that the view was what cemented the location for the build, beyond the strategic safety position and all.
We enjoyed climbing around the castle walls on walks about town.
Looking at the ancient frescos of the church built inside the castle.
The view… the view…
A keyhole to shoot arrows, and a unique perspective.
Looking down into a deep well where villagers hid from pirates!
The classic castle wall silhouette.
The Cuitadella (city) was also a fascinating discovery. The ruins had been built up to showcase the rooms, as well as including tools and items that one might have found in the original structures. Noah, Natalie and Paul were particularly thrilled with the discovery of the armor, and the fact that they could try out their inner warriors. We learned about the ancient language, crops grown at the time, how they stored their grain and water in large pottery, of which they were famous for. We discovered the sophisticated structures, metal weaponry, and even the use of gutters to collect rainwater. It was a fascinating experience of history that gave us more sensorial connection than any textbook could have.
Walking on streets thousands of years old.
Natalie practiced stamping her name in the original written language.
Grinding grain.
We are looking into a deep cistern for storing grain.
A maze of half walls showed various rooms in the chief’s home.
Noah is standing near a clay oven.
There was even underground storage.
It rained while we were there, so we were able to see the gutter system in action.
