Valdilecha

I’m hijacking some wireless internetz in Valdilecha. Oh yes.  I wrote this last night, and hopefully you’ll like it.

First off, I was right about Valdilecha not having internet. Valdilecha is a village about 30 miles outside of Madrid where Juan Antonio’s mom lives, and its ghetto as all hell, think of the villages in Nacho Libre, let me tell you, so you’ll have to deal with one long post when I get back to Vigo. But first, I must provide you with details of my day. This day will not soon be forgotten, because it was a great glimpse into Spanish culture.

My day began when I woke up at 12. I love the Spanish culture already. Elena had set out a bowl for me, so I ate some cornflakes and called it good. Then I watched some TV, this time both “Family Guy” in Spanish, as well as “True Life”. Fuck yeah reality TV in Spain.

Juan Antonio got home around 3, and we ate a meal that consisted of “pollo” (chicken) and “arroz” (rice). I enjoyed this meal, mainly because it was less heavy than yesterday, and I like chicken better than pork. We packed our bags, said goodbye to A Coruna, and headed towards Valdilecha at about 4. It’s about a six hour drive, just what I need, more travelling. The car ride was rather uneventful, save for a couple of things. Juan Antonio made me speak to him in Spanish almost the entire way, which I know is good for me, but it was hella difficult to keep up in a conversation. When he got tired of that, he decided to turn on the radio to an English music station and then make me translate what everyone was saying in the songs. This exact station was called “OCHENTAS Y MAS”, essentially a shit ton of 80s pop hits. I do believe that a requirement to be played on this station was to have been included in the “Like, Omigod” 80s box set that I own. All I have to say is a big “fuck you” to George Michael for making me explain what the “Jitterbug” is to my host parents. And another one to Kool and the Gang because “Kool” does not equal “frio” and I don’t know how to explain when something is cool.

We arrived in Valdilecha around ten, and I was forced to talk to Juan Antonio’s mother and sister for a seemingly endless amount of time because they understand absolutely no English. We ate dinner, which was 2 fried eggs (fucking olive oil again) and I think stewed tomatillos. They didn’t know what the name was in English, and I didn’t understand the Spanish name. Everything is served with a couple of loaves of bread to sop up the sauce and whatnot. There was some type of fruit, which reminded me of lychee. I finally got to meet Marta, my host sister. She is very sweet, and I think we’ll get along great. She seems to have a lot of patience as well as a good sense of humor.

Around eleven, Elena and Juan Antonio tried to call Jorge, their son, who is in the United States right now. Skype wasn’t really working because of the lack of good internet, but it was funny to see Elena yell at the computer, just like my mom when she doesn’t understand what is going on. Juan Antonio told me that tonight there was a big party where everyone in the town goes to the main plaza to celebrate something do to with the Governor. Did I emphasize big?

There are 2,000 people in Valdilecha, according to Juan Antonio, and easily every single one of them was at this plaza. The party didn’t even start until midnight. At midnight, there were some fireworks, the crowning of what they call the “Miss”, the beauty pageant winner and just a shit ton of people and cigarette smoke.

It was here that I was introduced to what they call “Peñas”. Imagine taking a group of about ten of your closest friends, both male and female, dressing up in matching clothes, and then proceeding to get drunk off your ass every night with them. That is a Peña. There were all types of them here, easily recognizable by their crazy ass clothes that they were wearing. While I was standing with Juan Antonio watching all this stuff go down, his sister comes up with her son, Fernando. In front of Juan Antonio, Fernando tells me “ven conmigo y toma alcohol con mis amigos.” Come with me and drink alcohol with my friends. I look at Juan Antonio and he just nods his head. “What the fuck am I doing?” was the main thought running through my head, but I realized that if I just kept my cool, I would be okay.

I walked with Fernando a little ways away from the plaza, where there are a bunch of kids dressed similar to him, in orange shirts and blue wind pants. The first thing they ask me is “quieres fo(a?)llar?” I give them a blank look and they say, almost in unison “fuck fuck fuck fuck”. Now I know what that word means. I walked around with them, meeting more people than I can remember. When you meet someone in Spain, girl or guy, you rub cheeks and make a kissing sound. Weird, at least for me. One girl, Carla, was especially helpful because she spoke English quite well, so she was able to help me out quite a bit.

After walking, we went to essentially what was a shack for the Peña. They have these all around the villages, essentially occupying what could be garages, but instead they have decked them out with their colors and a ton of booze. This one consisted of a couple of couches, a bar, a stereo, and strobe lights. I asked for a Coke when someone came by and asked me why I wasn’t drinking anything. I’m pretty sure this particular “coke” had whiskey or some other hard alcohol in it as well, but I just nursed that throughout the entire night. I basically mingled with people as best as I could, which is still not very good due to my lack of speaking understandable Spanish. They listen to a lot of American music, and they knew every word to “Apologize” by OneRepublic. During the night, one man from another group came up and started talking to me, and was trying to explain something to me, but I couldn’t figure out what. Eventually, a girl came up to me and put it in simpler Spanish/English. The man was explaining a back room that not many people were in, where there was a bed, and also lots more booze as well. The girl came by and said “Eso es a room for fucking” What is it with these Spanish people and their constantly talking about sex? Crazy people.

I soon realized that people here are extremely open with one another, and even though I couldn’t understand most of what people were saying, I felt like they were my friends and vice versa. It was pretty cool. They asked me about politics, which surprised me greatly because I didn’t think that they would be interested in something that American. When I told them I supported Obama and that I consider myself a Democrat, they cheered for me, and one of the guys poked fun at a girl by saying that she liked McCain. They had a nickname for McCain, “el papa”. Based on what I understood, they call McCain a potato because many potatoes are similar to each other, and I guess McCain is “MORE OF THE SAME”, as Joe Biden says. They seem to like Obama’s stances on immigration, from what I can tell, because as one girl put it, “America is a nation of strangers, so why should they shut the other strangers out?” America, get with the program and start voting with the rest of the civilized world. A couple of notable things: People want to speak English with me whenever they can, which I find cool and also humorous. They also ask me about bands or people from America, asking me, “Sabes (do you know) Donna Summer?” Sometimes they have such a heavy accent that I really can’t understand them at all. A lot of people wear t-shirts with English on them, but they are often times poorly translated, and hilarity ensues.

Well, it’s now a little past four in the morning here, no joke, I didn’t get home till a quarter past three because they party all night. I am very tired, and yet I won’t be able to sleep because there is still music playing in the plaza, “You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman”, to be exact. What a wonderful life.

Peace.