Spanish Drama: "Madre de la Soledad Bendita"

Since I was a little girl, my mom has always used a particular phrase to describe my natural (and perfectly justifiable) emotional reactions: "you always take it to Hollywood."  Sometimes she likes to throw in a little mention of an Oscar-worthy performance, just for emphasis.  I think she might be implying that I have a knack for being dramatic (me?  no....).  My mom, along with nearly every one I know, loves to point out that I'm dramatic - something I really don't understand because I'm a Gemini and Geminis are NEVER dramatic (my sarcasm should be seething through the screen right now).  But, after my car ride home earlier this week, I saw the true drama professionals in action in a fantastic (and perhaps a bit stereotypical) Spanish Drama.

ACT I: Exposition 
The play begins on Monday evening when I was in Carrefour (think the Spanish version of Walmart) picking up a few things.  While shopping I heard a high pitched "señooooo!!!!" (teacher, more specifically a female teacher, derived from the word "señorita") to which I instinctively responded to and saw one of my kids standing a few feet away.  He and his twin brother gave me besitos and we chatted briefly before going our separate ways.

ACT II: Rising Action and Climax
The next day during the ride home from school I casually mentioned that I'd seen los gemelos from 3rd grade the previous night.  My bilingual coordinator responded with intrigue, "yes?? did they say anything to you?"  I relayed the brief interaction to him, which garnered a rather extraordinary response for such an ordinary story.  "Really?  They spoke to you??  And gave you KISSES?!?!  UY UY UY UYYYYY!!!"  He turned to the kindergarten teacher and told her that los gemelos spoke to me in Carrefour and the following unfolded for a solid minute: (heads shaking, arms flailing) "UY UY UY UYYYY NO LO PUEDO CREER!!!!  MADRE MIAAAAAA!  NO ME DIGAS, NO ME DIGAS!  AY DIOS, AY MADRE DE LA SOLEDAD BENDITAAAA UY UY UYYYY!"  (Translation, which I love: "Oh oh oh oh, I can't believe it!  Mother of mine!  Don't tell me this!  Don't tell me this!  Oh God, Oh Mother of the Holy Solitude")

ACT III: Flashback
As it turns out, los gemelos had seen the kindergarten teacher in Carrefour a few months ago and neglected to say anything to her.  The next day at school she asked them if they saw her, to which they responded yes.  When asked why they didn't say hi, they responded with giggles.  I suppose that she and my bilingual coordinator had chalked it up to shyness, as they are very shy in class.  But my story dismantled that theory, causing her to feel offended...deeply offended, apparently.

ACT IV: Falling Action and Resolution
After the dramatics settled and they'd explained the situation to me, I was still a little intrigued.  There was a new phrase in the onslaught of religious and cultural sayings that I wasn't familiar with.  So on that day, "Madre de la Soledad Bendita" became my new favorite phrase.  I'm not sure it can get much more dramatic (or Catholic) than this.  Upon learning my new favorite phrase the teachers in my car suddenly became my acting coaches: "now practice saying it with feeling, like us!  'Maaaadree dela Soledaaad Bendiiiitaaaaa.'  You have to say it from your soul."  They all awaited anxiously for my performance, but in the presence of such greatness, I must confess that I had a little stage fright.  I told them that I would surely unleash my new favorite phrase when I felt the burning passion in my soul to do so.  A response that they seemed pleased with.

El Fin.

The reviews are in and this is quite possibly the most impeccable performance in a Drama (Spanish or otherwise) that I've ever seen.  As the curtain fell, I felt that I was indeed the amateur watching a true Oscar-worthy performance unfold.

Note to all who read my blog: you are NEVER allowed to call ME dramatic again.

Spain vs. Argentina

The year leading up to my study abroad in Argentina was filled with indecisiveness and a few too many (unsolicited) opinions.  The choice was between Madrid and Buenos Aires.  I wanted to go to Buenos Aires because, while I’d never been to Madrid, I had done a lot of traveling in Europe, but none in South America.  I wanted use my time abroad to see and experience things that were completely different from our own culture, and I felt that Buenos Aires was the perfect place to do that.

However, I always felt I had to defend my decision against a few very opinionated friends and my mother who tried their best to dissuade me:  Argentina is dangerous.  You think you can really live in Latin America?  Will they have all the technology and luxuries you’re accustomed to?  Europe is better than South America, hell Europe is better than America.  But, always the stubborn one, I refused to adopt this Euro-centrist view and decided to go to Argentina for six months instead. 

I discovered that Argentina is a country of immigrants, primarily made up of people from Italy and Spain (but also small populations from Germany, England and other various European countries) who did not mix with the indigenous people nor the African slaves.  The goal in constructing Buenos Aires was to build a European city in South America, specifically modeled after Paris.  The result?  A chic city that’s a mix between New York and Paris, with a European sophistication and a dash of Latin flair that’s a little rough around the edges.  And while Buenos Aires has a heavy European influence, it still gave me the opportunity to travel throughout South America and have experiences that I never would have had otherwise. 

Although I was (and still am) thoroughly pleased with my decision, I always wondered about a little place called Spain.  So when the opportunity arrose to live in Spain, I jumped at the chance to take it.  Now that I’ve lived here for almost four months, I feel that I can make a pretty adequate comparison between the two countries and their respective cultures.

So in the epic battle between Argentina and Spain, who will win?  There's only one way to find out...

Madrid vs. Buenos Aires:  Over winter break I met several Argentines who were quick to prompt me on my opinion on Spain vs. Argentina.  They’d just come from Madrid and had decided that it “es lo mismo que Buenos Aires!”  (the same as Bs As)  For the most part, I agree.  Madrid and Bs As are both very beautiful cities with gorgeous architecture.  They are both busy and bustling, although the Argentine capitol is much larger than Madrid.  They both have vast green parks and lovely plazas.  They also have a long list of international cuisines, fine dining options, relaxing cafes and a lively nightlife.  However, Madrid is MUCH cleaner than BsAs.  In BsAs it was just a part of the culture to litter, and it is not looked down upon at all.  So while the city was beautiful, you had to watch your step for fear of trash and dog poop.

 

Madrid?  Buenos Aires?  Can you tell the difference? 

Food:  This one is a little tricky because I feel that I'm a little biased here.  My host mom in Argentina was an amazing cook, so I always went back for seconds (and thirds...understandably why my jeans curiously ceased to button at the end of my time abroad).  Their steaks are the best in the world - they literally melt on your tongue - and I haven't been able to look at (or eat) a steak they same way since.  On the other hand, Spain's mediterranean menu serves up a large variety of seafood, which is something I swore off eating years ago.  The other protagonist on the menu is ham in all it's various forms: serrano, york, etc.  The good thing about Spanish food is that it's healthy because all the foods are cooked in olive oil.  And while there are a few dishes that have become my go to during tapas (patatas bravas, bombas), I have to say that Argentine food is better.

Flamenco vs. tango:  The flamenco: intense and exhilarating.  Tango: simultaneously nostalgic and sultry.  Both: passionate dances that I wish I could do.  The flamenco was conceived by the gypsies in Andalucia while the tango was created by poor Italian immigrants in Boca’s milongas.  They have some shared similarities and influences, intriguing histories and are accompanied by their own respective beautiful and unique music styles.  They both also have an indescribable ability to draw in and captivate people from all over the world.  And for me, they are equally seductive and inspiring.

 

Flamenco 

Tango

                                     

Europe vs. Latin America:  It’s very simple: I love Europe.  But I’ve always had a strong intrigue with Latin American culture, history, music, etc.  I’ll say this, I like to live in Europe, but I love to immerse myself in latin culture.

Los chicos:  Spain wins.  Although Argentine and Spanish boys have very similar physical features, there’s no escaping the prevelance of the machismo factor that inundates men in Argentina.  Although Spain has a machismo society too, it’s gotten better over the years and is presently more subdued.  In my interactions with the opposite sex here, everything seems more comfortable.  In Argentina I literally had to push, punch and slap to keep guys from touching me on a night out.  Seems like you get the same package, just with a nicer gift inside in Spain.

Spaniards vs. Argentines: Hands down, the Argentines.  Throughout the Spanish speaking community, both Argentines and Spaniards have a bad reputation.  Argentines are infamous for being arrogant, cheeky and thinking they are generally better than the other latinos they share a continent with, mostly because they think they belong in Europe rather than in South America.  But in my experience, this is more of a show.  Because once you’re in their country they are the warmest, most welcoming people.  Stop a random person for directions and they will tell you their life story and ask for yours too.  Similarly, Spaniards have a reputation of being unfriendly and contemptuous; after all they think they "discovered" the "New World" and conquered most of Latin America.  The unfortunate difference is that I've found the stereotype about Spaniards to have some truth. I’ve found many people here to be rude and aloof, but that's not to say that I haven't also have met some wonderfully nice people too.  

Marcha vs. Joda: These are terms to describe nightlife or partying: marcha (Spain) and joda (Argentina).  I'd say it's pretty much a tie.  They both have similar routines of eating a late dinner, going to a bar, and officially starting the night past midnight and not ending it until the sun comes up.  They both also make me feel generally old and out of practice, as I struggle to keep the party going 'til the morning hours.

 

Joda

Marcha

Fashion: Spain takes the cake (or perhaps more appropriately, the shoes).  Spanish women are very fashion-forward and conscience.  They always seem to dress to impress even while running the most mundane of errands.  Argentine men dress well, but I just couldn't get into the style of Argentine women's clothing.  However, Argentines do put themselves together and generally dress better than Americans (i.e. you will never see someone in sweats out and about in the city).  

Lifestyle:  Spain and Argentina seem to share the "work to live" mentality that Americans lack.  They see work as a part of life, but not the dominate or defining part of life.  In both cultures, the most important part of life is the pleasure gained from spending free time with family and friends, relaxing in a cafe or going for a walk in a park.  In short, both cultures enjoy appreciating the smaller things in life, which is an aspect that I don't mind assimilating to all ;)  

Malbec vs. Rioja: I must say, apart from fashion, this is my particular area of expertise: el vino.  When I first arrived in Argentina, I was a white wine lover to the core.  But Argentina taught me not only how to appreciate a fine wine, but how to also appreciate a red wine.  Malbec and Rioja are both medium to full bodied red wines that usually take a more experienced pallet to appreciate.  Malbec is a bit stronger and is the perfect compliment to steaks.  Rioja is a bit smoother and goes well with food or solo.  Whichever is your pick, in my opinion, they are both equal parts liquid divinity and pleasure.

 

Accents: The accents from these two countries serve as an immediate giveaway of from where their respective holders hail.  The Argentines are infamous for their distinct accent, pronouncing "y" and "ll" as a "j" or with a "shh" sound (i.e. - Yo llegue ayer -- Jo jegue ajer or Shho shhegue ashher)  They sing their Spanish instead of speak it.  The result is a beautiful language that falls somewhere between Italian and Spanish.  Spaniards, on the other hand, speak with a rather odd accent, pronouncing "c" and "z" with a lisp (i.e. - corazon -- corathon).  When I first arrived, I despised the Spanish accent (don't even get me started on the Andaluz accent - that's another post all together) and held stead fast to my Argentine accent.  To my surprise, Spaniards LOVE the Argentine accent and find it unique and sexy, which just cemented the fact that I should keep my accent.  Also to my surprise, I do not despise the Spanish accent as much as I did upon arrival, but there's still no doubt in my mind, or in my ears, that the Argentine accent is the more attractive of the two.

Kirchner vs. Zapatero: When it comes to the world of government and politics, I have to ask you to pardon my crudeness when I say: Argentina and Spain both suck.  HARD.  Both countries are entirely inefficient, unorganized and needlessly complicate the easiest of processes.  However, my frustrations only seem to simmer here while in Argentina they definitely boiled over due to the fact the country is saturated in corruption.

Overall, there are characteristics that I've fallen in love with from both countries and cultures.  There are also other aspects that I could do with out from each.  I think the best way to describe my sentiments is this: I left my heart in Argentina, but I'm falling hard for Spain ;)

Besitos,
B

Spanish Intolerance

While I love many things about Spain, there is on aspect that has bothered me and has had me thinking for quite some time.  No country is perfect, but the Spaniards' general intolerance has sent my mind reeling on several occasions.

While I've kept my mouth shut on this blog, I was inspired to finally write this post after what I watched unfold at work yesterday.  This week we're celebrating Valentine's Day in English class.  I decided to replicate the common activity that we did as kids: make a V-day mailbox and have the kids deliver handmade valentines (with English messages).  In order to ensure that no child is left valentine-less, it was necessary for the kids to HAVE to make valentines for everyone in the class, if they wanted to make one for anyone.  While we didn't have time to do to this, I had the kids pick names from a bag for a "secret valentine" sort of deal.  But before the activity even started, one of the girls asked me if a certain little boy would participate (for the purposes of this post, I will call him Juan).  Juan has down syndrome.  I answered that yes, of course he would participate in the activity (while he doesn't participate in most activities, this was easy and fun enough for his abilities).  The entire class erupted into groans, begging that I reconsider this decision.  Absolutely not.

Next, I passed out the names of each person in the class, and when one girl picked Juan, she spent the rest of the class complaining loudly and almost in tears.  Today, while looking through the valentines, I discovered that the girl elected to NOT make a valentine for him and to make one for her friend instead.  I told them that that their behavior was uncalled for, but I didn't feel it was my place to say more, seeing as I'm an assistant, rather than a full-time teacher.  But I thought at the very least, the bilingual coordinator would put a stop these malicious comments and poor behavior; but he just ignored it instead.

I was appalled and nearly in tears about this.  I understand that kids will be kids, but I believe it is the DUTY of adults, especially influencers like teachers, to impart the basic principle that yes, we are different, but we are all equal and thus should be treated so.

I think that perhaps this situation upset me so much because this comes after months of watching the daily mistreatment of this little boy.  It is very obvious to me that either none of the teachers at this school have special education training, or that the Spanish approach to disabilities and differences is vastly different from our own.  Where to start... In my opinion, they handle him too physically: they will tug his hair or ears, grab him by the leg to drag him from under a table and lightly hit him to castigate him.  When he doesn't want to work, they call him lazy, although I'm sure it's not that he's lazy, its that he requires a different method of learning than the other students.  They make jokes at his expense.  They call him names.  If he needs to wipe his nose, but refuses or wipes it on his sleeve, they will call him dirty or a pig.  For Christ's sake, the child has down syndrome, he is not deaf.  I do not claim to know much about mental disabilities, or the extent to which he understands, but I'm sure that this constant flow of verbal ABUSE (yes, that is what I'd call this)  must be deteriorating his sense of self and integrity somewhere inside.

I know that I am not alone in my experiences and observations, as my friends have echoed similar experiences in their schools, which leads me to believe that this isn't an isolated circumstance, but a widespread cultural intolerance to people with differences.

I've also noticed this characteristic of intolerance when it comes to race relations.  I cannot say that I have experienced racism directed towards me, although I face comments about my skin color and race on nearly a daily basis.  As in Argentina, my name has become "Morena," yet again.  This is a term used in Spanish speaking cultures to describe a person of color.  But it's so encompassing that it can be used to describe someone of olive complexion, to someone with a very dark complexion from Africa.  I became accumstomed to this new name in Buenos Aires.  I swear to you that not a day passed by when someone didn't refer to me as "morena."  At first I wasn't sure how to react, because if someone in the U.S. were to call me "colored girl," I'd probably be ready to slap them across the face.  However, it was explained to me, by both morenos and whites in Argentina, that "morena" was not an offensive or derogatory term; rather just a term meant to describe a person's skin color, which is natural.  While I'm no longer put off by this, and I understand that this is a cultural difference, it still seems a bit odd to me.

However, I KNOW that I'm not reading too much into the fact that there is very real racism against "los gitanos" (the gypsies) in Spain.  The gypsies are usually people of color who live an alternate, nomad lifestyle, which many times includes begging and stealing.  Every Spaniard who has spoken to me about los gitanos has had nothing but hateful things to say.  I've tried to ask as many questions as possible about their history and relationship to the Spaniards to try to better understand this animosity.  But I can't take it seriously when the Spaniards say that they're bad people, without backing it up with any concrete reasons.  And how can ALL gitanos be bad people?  Even if Spaniards have had some bad experiences with some gitanos, this certainly doesn't speak to the actions or persons of the entire race.  That's a little thing I call racism.

Then there's a fun little phrase called "no seas un moro" (don't act like an Arab) that the Spaniards pull out when someone does something stupid.  Hmm...racism?  They think not, but I think so.  It's the equivalent of using the ever so eloquent phrase, "that's gay" to describe something stupid in the States.  It's ignorant and prejudiced to equate something distasteful and undesireable with a group of oppressed people.  While it seems to make so much sense to me, it seems to be an incredibly difficult concept to grasp for the Spaniards.

Sorry this has been quite a long rant, but if there's one thing I absolutely cannot tolerate, it's close-minded ignorance, and I'd say I've had my fair share here.  Perhaps some would assert that my being raised in America, especially as a minority woman in America, has made me overly sensitive in our country of political correctness.  But I'd argue that it's just made me more adept to recognize prejudice and its causes.  It's not an excuse that Spain is a more homogenous country than the U.S.  There are no excuses for this.  It's paramount to educate oneself about other people, cultures, religions and races because the world is an infinitely diverse place.

Happy Hour

This post was originally written the week before Christmas. 

I'm not sure exactly what it is.  Perhaps its the fact that working with kids can spur strong desire for a grown-up drink after a day screaming, coloring and incessant questions (example: "Miss Brittany, do you have a boyfriend," for the third time this week.  But I digress...)  Or perhaps its the fact that the popular saying "it's five o'clock somewhere" lives on, even though its not yet noon here.  Or perhaps it's the same difference in work ethic I observed in Argentina.  Let me draw a parallel:

On the first day of my internship in Buenos Aires I asked my boss what my hours were, specifically what time I needed to arrive each day.  She shrugged, said that most people come in around 10:30 or 11, but that the decision was really up to me.  But of course this was not just said flat out.  It was intertwined with the romanticism and laxidasical attitude that is truly Argentine: "No se, lo que vos quieras esta bien.  Podes entrar a las 10:30 o 11 como los otros, o lo que quieras.  Pero no te preocupes sobre este tema, quedate tranquila.  Podes chequear tu e-mail!"  Looking back, this should have never been said to me, because I took this literally.  I began the semester arriving promptly at 10:30 each day.  However, over the course of the semester I found it harder and harder to get out of the bed, and by the end, I found myself slyly strolling in around 11:45 or 12.  But no one gave this a second look, as people would come and go all hours of the day, sometimes with shopping bags, other times unexplained, all while rocking skinny jeans and converse sneakers.  But I digress again.  My point is that the work environment was very different, because it was very laid back.  One time the president of the Argentina office sped through the office on a segway.  Another time, large rubber balls went bouncing off the walls in the office (don't ask for an explanation, I'm still not certain about this one)  People unabashedly had facebook and windows messenger up most of the time.  So its no surprise that I adjusted to the laid back Argentine work culture.

But all this is just to give some background on what just happened today at work.  It's the holidays, and with less than a week to go, everyone's feeling a bit of the holiday spirit.  So when one of the teacher's came around with traditional Spanish holiday treats, I was very excited.  But when the director of the school asked me if I had ever tried "alquitara, un licor guindas" I was a bit taken aback.  After all, alcohol just isn't something that you really talk about in a professional environment...or is it?  He pulled out a bottle and and plastic shot cups and poured a "chupita."  Of course it was only a matter of time before the other teachers caught wind and headed over to indulge in a little mid-morning happy hour.  They said it was to warm their bones, since the heat was out today.

I can't help but think, this wouldn't happen at an elementary school at home!  Cultural differences are always an adventure, this one being a rather entertaining one!

Story Time: Feliz Navidad!

This post was originally written the week of Christmas.

The best and worst time of year has arrived.  Of course the holiday season is one of the best times out of the entire year; however, it can also be a teacher’s worst nightmare.  You see, the amount of days left until Christmas vacation is directly proportional to kids’ behavior; as the time dwindles, the kids’ behavior becomes increasingly worse.  Let me illustrate:

Each grade (after kindergarten) has prepared a Christmas carol in English to sing during the school’s teatro de navidad.  Last week the first and second graders were practicing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”  A simple song with three short lines.  However, we could barely get through it as two girls hugged the whole time, Raul jumped up and down while screaming, some other kids danced and little Manolo escaped to the back of the classroom to take a nap under a desk.  Yes, you read that correct, under a desk.  Needless to say, recently I’ve left school with a strong need for an adult beverage (or two, but who’s counting?)

But I digress from the purpose of this post.  While it might be a nightmare trying to get the kids to behave and focus on work, school can be generally more enjoyable because of the Christmas activities.  Last week I taught each class about Christmas in the States, and touched on other religious holidays and New Years.  They loved seeing pictures and video footage of Christmas trees, Santa Claus (pronounced Sahnta Clauww in Spain) and the various other traditions we have. 

This week, after much preparation, was the school teatro de navidad (Christmas play).  Each grade performed skits, mostly dealing with the nativity scene.  My favorite skit was put on by the third and fourth graders, whose skit was about the Tres Reyes Magos.  In Spain Santa Claw, or Papa Noel, is a relatively new addition to the Christmas holiday.  Traditionally, Spanish Christmas is based off of the actual events of that night.  So the Tres Reyes Magos bring children gifts, just as they did to baby Jesus on Christmas.  And just like American kids, Spanish kids can go to malls to see the Tres Reyes Magos, take pictures and compile present wish lists.

During the teatro there was also a lot of music: belloncicos (Christmas carols) in English and in Spanish, even some with a flamenco flair.  The older kids also played Jingle Bells on their recorders (remember that from elementary school??)  Despite a few glitches, and teachers having to blatantly direct the younger children through the show, the teatro was excellent.

El teatro de Navidad - SO cute!

After school that day the staff went out for a celebratory holiday "lunch."  Now I use the term "lunch" quite loosely here, as what came to pass was actually more along the lines of a never-ending holiday feast and festivities.  Lunch, or NEHFAF, was held in a nice restaurant in the neighboring pueblo, Cambil.  It began promptly at 3 o'clock with tapas, drinks and socializing at the bar.  Next we journeyed to a round table to begin the first of at least a five course meal.  That would not end for several hours.  Although I had to leave for Berlin in 12 hours.

But I digress yet again.  Besides the fact that this was the longest lunch I have ever seen, I found another cultural difference to be very interesting.  After dinner, around 7, the lights dimmed and the music began to thump louder.  They played all the popular discoteca hits: Maria, Maria, Manos al Aire and I Know You Want Me.  This resulted in all the teachers getting up to show off their dance moves, with a unique Spanish flair: shaking their hips a little here, adding a little dash of flamenco there.  Although I was beyond stressed with my looming trip and its preparations, I have to admit that this part of the dinner made me smile and remember to take it easy.  After all, the holidays only come around once a year.

The five hour lunch

Spanish people know how to have fun.  This is my bilingual coordinator and the kindergarten teacher.  Apparently, dancing flamenco is just in the blood.  (Sorry the video is sideways...but slant your computer because it's definitely worth watching!)

A Midnight Rendezvous

I can’t help but think, perhaps European guys have it easier.  At least when it comes to pursuing matters of the heart with American girls.  After all, they only need to work with what they already have in order to woo: a sexy accent, the ability to say titillating things in languages we can’t understand and access to the random thousand year old castle here and there.  Allow me to explain…

  

Saturday night began as normal as any other: a short siesta followed by a merienda of pan, tomate y olives, then a birthday party.  However, said party was a little less than lively, so The Spaniard turned and asked me if I’d like to leave and do something else.  While discussing the possibilities, he interjected, “would you like to go see a castle?  It’s really beautiful at night.”  My answer, of course, was an enthusiastic “YES!”

  

So we visited a small pueblo named Los Baños de la Encina, which is located about 30 to 40 minutes outside of Jaen and dates back one thousand years.  It’s as picturesque as any postcard of an old-town European city: cobble stoned streets, antique street lamps, tiny balconies and overall gorgeous views.  Overlooking the pueblo is a large castle, which is illuminated in a soft golden light at night.  Throughout history, the Spaniards used this castle to defend themselves against the Moors, the British and the French.  Today it serves as a hotel, restaurant and tourist attraction, as do many other castles in this region.  And located next door to the castle is a grand cathedral.  Although it was -2 degress celcius, the entire experience was...enchanting (so sorry to be cliched). 

  

And here’s a fun fact I bet you didn’t know: Spain’s Andalucia region has the most castles out of any other region in Europe.  You learn something new everyday (although its usually not about castles!)

Besos,

B

The Ick Factor: American Cynicism and Spanish Romance

In order to fully understand this post, I feel its appropriate to reference my favorite TV show, "Sex and the City."  During season six Carrie begins dating the famed Russian artist and playboy, Aleksander Petrovsky.  They're from two completely different worlds; hers is a world filled with Manolos, cosmopolitans and glamour, set to the backdrop of modern New York City.  His is a world filled with art, international travel and intellectualism.  They converge in a romance filled with passion, but not many shared interests.  One of their prominent differences is how they approach romantic relationships.  Being from Europe, "The Russian" showed his affection through grand romantic gestures (i.e. - poems, writing love songs, etc.  See video clip below: skip ahead to 2:14).  However, as a modern American gal, Carrie found it difficult to stomach his sweet romantic gestures.
 

 
While its true that I've often thought of myself as the missing member of SATC, I never quite thought I'd be living out my own version in this particular manner.  A couple of weeks ago I met a handsome Spanish gentleman at Bariloche who I'll refer to as "The Spaniard."  Since then, the romance that has ensued would leave you thinking you were watching a Danielle Steel novel unfold: a single long stemmed red rose and decadent chocolate truffles on the first date; an endless shower of compliments containing metaphors that seem to be penned by Shakespeare; seranades of Spanish love songs; pulling over on the roadside for a slow dance...and the list goes on.
 
Looking back, I realize that I spent most of that first date festering in my own cynicism, trying to figure out The Spaniard's alterior motives.  After all, if an American guy professed to me, "you have the face of an angel," I would probably eloquently reply, "fuck off."  Pardon my French.  Needless to say, when it comes to Spanish romance, I found that I was more than a little lost.
 
Now whether you believe these "grand romantic gestures" are a true proclomation of feelings, or something else just for show, what this really boils down to is cultural differences.  A friend of mine, who is Hispanic-American, assured me that everything I was experiencing is normal within Spanish-Latin culture.  After all, its a culture known of its passion, and the expression of that passion is considered natural.  It can be found everywhere: the language, the music, the food and in romance.  On the other hand, American culture is strongly influenced by British culture, which is infamous for being cold, closed and reserved.  And today more than ever, we are a nation of cynics.  

So after yet another intricate compliment, seeping in sweetness, I explained to The Spaniard that I am American, and not quite sure I can stomach this.  He looked at me startled and confused, which propmpted further explanation into American culture and the common notion that "romance" is dead.  At the end of my explanation, he asked one simple question: how do you flirt with someone you like if you don't tell them how you feel?  Sometimes its the simplest answers that make the most sense.  This made me think that I've been so tangled in my web of American cynicism that I couldn't recognize that a little Spanish romance can actually be a good thing.
 

It's too much!  "I'm an American!"

 

At last...laughing with romance and not at it.

Besos,
B