Culture Shock in Spain

My first trip to Europe was in 2000 when Theo and I enjoyed a belated honeymoon in Italy. Between then and the start of this trip, I had been to Europe to more times (Paris, Barcelona). We've been here for over three months now, and getting to know each place, from Istanbul to Edinburgh and Stockholm to Konstanz has been pretty easy.

It wasn't until a few days into our stay here outside of Seville that I realized I was experiencing culture shock.

First, I’m not used to the timing of things around Spain. The siesta is real and I feel annoyed about it. My sleeping and eating rhythms are not really in synch with those of the Andalusians. We often find ourselves ready to do something - visit a museum or go shopping or run an errand or eat a snack when things are closed or just barely open. Life in Seville seems to really start at 8 p.m., and well, I'm ready to be home, fed, and cuddled with my kids and a book or a movie.

Also, I'm having a weird twist on culture shock in this little village - we have to drive everywhere for everything. If we want to do anything or eat anything, we have to drive to get there, and the drives aren’t short. That is very much like our Maryland life (except for the driving distances, which are much shorter there), and I am surprised by how foreign it feels to me now that we’ve spent more than three months being able to walk out our door to find food and entertainment. I’m glad for it, too, though, because it reminds me of an intention I set for this trip. That intention was to get closer to real, normal life in many places than the average tourist experiences. We didn’t want this whole trip to be styled like a vacation - hotels, tourist hotspots, high-season, etc. We didn’t want that kind of glossy, arms-length experience for a year.

Finally, the attitude toward service and hospitality is noticeably different here. Restaurant waitstaff seem to be more indifferent to our presence, less peppy than in the U.S. and possibly more annoyed at the language barrier than in any other place we've been so far. Theo knows a little Spanish and uses it often; we definitely try to make communication as clear and easy for others as possible and never expect English to be spoken. Our stay in Konstanz acclimated me to living in a place where the overall English-fluency level is lower than in the big European cities, so what I think I'm picking up on is something a little bit different but I'm not quite sure how to describe it. The reactions and reception to us in the village is different, too, in that we are obviously not from around here - we're not even Spanish - and it's not summer so people are just wary. Why would two Americans with kids come to this village in October anyway?

All of these bits of culture shock sound like downers, but they're really not bringing me down. (The four days of rain, however...) On the contrary, noticing them made me smile. They are gifts: the rewards of this adventure. Sure, I'm traveling to get to know the world, but I'm also traveling to get to know myself, my family, and my American home a lot better. This case of culture shock made me curious, and that's a good feeling.

Romeria de Torrijos

Each year, on the second Sunday if October, the entire village of Valencina de la Concepcion in Andalusia, Spain gathers to celebrate a centuries-long tradition. This tradition - the romeria - is a pilgrimage carrying the Our Lady of the Stars (the town’s patron saint) to the Hacienda de Torrijos. The legend goes that in the year 1600 a hen pecked into a wall at the Hacienda and discovered an image of Christ. So, the Hacienda becomes a special place and the townspeople take their statue of the Virgin to the shrine for a few hours before returning her to the parish church.

As luck would have it (truly) our stay in Valencina overlaps with this big event. My first clue that something was going to happen came the second night of our stay, when we went out to dinner and saw people blocking off roads to hang streamers from the light posts. I did some research and learned more about the celebration. I found a blog written by a British expat who lives in town, and I asked our Airbnb host for details. We got enough information to decide to go to the church in the morning of the pilgrimage and watch the beginning of the celebration.

People dress up for this in traditional costumes and load up decorated carts for a day-long picnic at the Hacienda. There were women riding sidesaddle on horses, and oxen drawing the carts. There was a marching band and some fife-and-drum players.

It was all kind of moving to me. We chose not to go to the Hacienda, since we don’t speak Spanish and don’t know anyone here, but we did enjoy watching the procession around the town square. It was a great experience and I am so grateful for it!

Three Months Done

We’re three months into this 12-month trip around the world.

We had two months of rapid travel and one month of living in the same apartment, which feels like two different trips. The first two months of travel through Turkey, Greece, Ireland, Great Britain, the Netherlands and Sweden gave me good insight into how I want to live my life with my family. The one month in Konstanz gave me good insight into how I lived my daily life in Maryland and how it might look and feel when I get back. Maybe this feeling won’t last, or maybe it will change, but nevertheless I’m having a strong feeling about travel being a part of my very being, about my family’s very being. What if we studied a language each year then took a 2-4 week trip to a country that speaks that language natively? What if we got an RV and traveled the U.S. for an extended trip? What if we took more guided trips and group tours? What if…?

During this third month we had a fun trip to northern Germany for a friend’s wedding, an enlightening and emotional trip to learn about Theo’s family ancestry, and a lot of staying put in a town where we don’t speak the language or know any of the people. In that town - Konstanz, Germany - we began to establish a world-schooling groove and had a small-scale Oktoberfest experience and a bit of sight-seeing. We closed out Month Three with a brief stay in Italy that included a visit to my ancestral home, and two long driving days through France and Spain to get to our latest stopping point: Seville.

There have been some changes to our routines and rhythms in this third month. We’ve all felt a bit restless and even bored. The kids began bickering again, something they had done very little of since we left Maryland. I started, then stopped watching the TV news. I’ve been more engaged with things at home through social media and online news. I’ve begun watching new-to-me shows on Netflix (Orphan Black). We resumed daily exercise as a family by taking on two 30-Day Challenges (Flexibility and Core). I’ve self-diagnosed plantar fasciitis in my left foot. I’ve spent a lot of time and thought on planning the February-July leg of our world tour. I’ve missed my family and friends while still feeling like there is no way I’m ready to come home. I’ve cooked dinner! I’ve forgotten so many of the little things that happened earlier in the trip, and only remembered them again when looking at photos or even credit card receipts. (I had no idea I’d feel gushy with reminiscence while reconciling our accounts. But, I did!)

We have just over two weeks left in Europe, then we say goodbye to our trusty 9-passenger steed and hop on a plane to Africa. I find the thought of all we still have ahead of us exciting and slightly nerve-wracking. It's a little like the feeling on the big incline of a roller coaster - we're definitely on a ride, but we're moving slowly. There's anticipation building for the speed and turns ahead and the accompanying rush of adrenaline. There's the knowledge that there will be some slower, gentler spots for catching our breath before the coaster takes off again with speed and thrills. Although I am not a roller coaster fan any longer (I'm terribly phobic of heights and incredibly prone to motion sickness), I can appreciate this comparison and give thanks for not being travel-phobic. In fact, I may just be a travel-junkie the way others are addicted to riding roller coasters. I'm not even done this ride and I'm already thinking about repeating it and choosing the next one.