The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Well folks, this is my last week in Oviedo, Spain. It's been quite the adventure these past 9 months. I have met loads of people, traveled nearly every corner of this country, and lived it to the utmost. And so, I wanted to write a sort of overall impression: the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. I cannot always be sure if what I see is typical of Oviedo, of Asturias, of Spain, or of all of Europe, but I will try to be as fair and balanced as possible with my judgments. I will also (eventually) translate this post into Spanish so everyone can benefit from my estimations.


THE GOOD, THE BAD

The Spanish are extremely tolerant and I find this so refreshing. After growing up in puritanical Utah, it is such a relief to live in a place where others don't impose their morals on your life. The Spanish are extremely in tune with the idea of "live and let live". Topics like alcohol, sex, and swearing are all treated very pragmatically here. Their understanding is that these are all personal choices and everyone is happiest if we all keep our ideologies to ourselves. As a result, there is much less abuse and excess in these regards. I can only think of one occasion off the top of my head that I've seen someone physically incapacitated from drinking too much. Since alcohol is not some forbidden, sinful object, people understand how to handle it in moderation. The idea of binging yourself blind when you turn 21 is a bit absurd to someone who's had wine with dinner all his or her life. In Asturias you can buy beer and cider at 16, and if you're with your family, there's no real age limit.

Of course, we all draw the line of what is tolerable differently. I am a bit appalled when I see 15-year-olds drinking and smoking in the park in broad daylight. The other day a 10-year-old boy on the street asked me to buy him cigarettes. These are both things I can never imagine happening at home.

My absolute least favorite thing about Spain is their tolerance for smoking. Ok, smoking in bars is fair enough, but every single restaurant, café, and coffee shop? There's no escape! I thought I was moving to modern Europe not the 1950's. People smoke in their own houses, with the windows closed even. Have they not heard of second hand smoke? Do they not mind their walls and furniture turning yellow and smelling like manure? As recently as 15 years ago people still smoked at the office and in university lectures. After checking some statistics online, it seems that as much as 30% of people over 16 in Spain smoke, compared to about 20% in the US and UK (over 18). With a mere 12% of the population smoking in Utah, you can imagine my shock. If you ever want to eat out or get a drink or coffee in Spain, you have to resign yourself to the fact that you will smell like an ashtray for the rest of the day. I have to take a shower after a night out because the smell of my own hair makes me sick. I know, I am less tolerant to smoke than most people due to my sensitive nose, but I can unequivocally say that tobacco is the worst part of Spain. I can't wait to go back to a nice smelling country, and think I may not return to Spain until they join the modern world in this regard.

Despite my grumbling, I have to just suck it up, because one key aspect of the Spanish lifestyle is that life happens outside the home. The Spanish truly know how to live well. People of all ages delight in taking a stroll around the park, chatting with friends for hours, and eating out. There are an incredible number of cafés, full of people taking their time to enjoy a coffee, eat a little snack, read the paper, catch up with the neighborhood gossip. Fast food and ordering things to-go are very unpopular; why rush? Going out is always an option on a dry night, and Spaniards are not shy to dance. I've spent many a happy evening drifting from locale to locale. You can stop in and dance some salsa, move on to a rock-and-roll kind of bar, get a glass of wine, go hear a Celtic band, and get your hip-hop on, all within the size of one or two Salt Lake City blocks. This leisurely attitude is institutionalized, and the entire country gets a solid month of vacation, usually August.

There are a few obvious drawbacks to this laid-back and fun-loving temperament. Spain has an unemployment rate of over 20%. Having loads of vacation and few work hours is great until you're the one who would really like to get something done. I once had to wait one whole hour to mail a package because there was only one person working at the post office on a weekday morning. It took me two hours to buy a cell phone for heaven's sake! If I set about to write down all the times I have been majorly screwed over by Spain's notorious disorganization and inefficiency, it would fill a small novel. The story I'll be telling my grandkids happened just last Monday. It was the final exam for my grammar class, the last of my exams and the end of my undergraduate career. On this most momentous day, I kid you not, the professor showed up one whole HOUR late to the exam. The university had told her the wrong time. She apologized profusely and assured us it was not the first time this had happened . . . truly the icing on the cake of a malfunctional year.

These experiences lead me to think it's maybe not a complete mystery that they have such crippling unemployment. I mean, the same people running the postal service and this high-ranking university are in charge of economic policy! I'm not saying all Spanish people are lazy or inept, but everyone in a position of power seems to be.

I don't mean to knock the University of Oviedo either. My professors were all extremely knowledgeable and dedicated. I learned a fair amount and one of my professors in particular was truly inspirational. Nevertheless, I am now quite certain I would never want to do my post-graduate work in Spain. I really appreciate the University of Utah and American education now. Here it's all just lecture. You show up to class (or not) and listen to the professor for 45 minutes (or a half hour if they arrive late as the aforementioned inspiration regularly did). Students aren't expected to contribute anything. Instead, they frantically write down every word the professor says. Those with the best notes copy them for their classmates, they study these novellas for days on end, then take one gigantic test. I often have ideas I'd like to share, but then remember the American girl who is rumored to have been kicked out of class for interrupting the lecturer, so I keep my thoughts to myself.


On a very different topic, Spanish food is delicious. I have nothing but good things to say. Everything is produced locally, naturally. Would you believe that at the McDonald's here they use Asturian beef? It's all much more healthy and ecological, a great model for a more sustainable future. My griping is confined to the following: too much fried food, not enough herbs/spices, not enough fruits and vegetables. Overall though, Spanish food is incredible. Even simple boring things like tortilla and croquetas are surprisingly delicious. My personal favorite is the fish and seafood. I know words for things I couldn't begin to name or describe in English. It's all quality and relatively affordable. As a matter of course I've also become a bit of a wine connoisseur; I really enjoy a good albariño or ribera del duero.

Another wonderful thing about Spain that I've had the pleasure of experiencing is the great cultural diversity that is to be found in different parts of the peninsula. When I visited Sevilla I was amazed how different everything was from Oviedo. The people look much more Mediterranean, they speak very differently, the food is different, and the climate is the exact opposite of Asturias: hot and dry. Then if you travel to Cataluña, the culture is quite different again, with nearly everyone speaking Catalán, a sort of intermediate language between Spanish and French (they say both gracias and merci!). And as I explained in an earlier post, the Basque country is probably the most unique of all, descended from the early pre-Roman, pre-Celtic people of Europe. Really, every village and city has slightly different language and food in Spain. Traveling just a few hours you can feel like you're somewhere new and foreign.

There is great diversity in the original cultures of the peninsula. But more and more there is greater cultural diversity due to immigration. I read once that Asturias has one of the highest percentages of immigrants in all of Spain, and it shows. When I've traveled to other parts of Spain it surprised me how few Chinese Bazaars there are, how few West Africans or Latin Americans I see compared to Oviedo. Sadly, Spain has not done a very good job of integrating these immigrants into mainstream society. Chinese people own restaurants or bazaars or sell flowers. That's it. Africans work as garbagemen or sell CDs. That's it. Latinos are more integrated because they already speak the language, but still hold marginal jobs. This is not substantially different than the U.S., bit it is more extreme. America has had a much longer history of immigration and thus it's not odd that a person of Asian decent should be a lawyer or one of African decent a CEO. In Spain this would be quite the anomaly.

Also, I hate to say it, but racism is much more acceptable in Spain than in America. As I mentioned in the last post, Europe is generally thought to be more classist and America more racist. Sadly, Spain is both classist and racist. People will casually say things like "Chinese are ugly" or "Africans are dangerous." There was even an advertisement on TV for a shampoo that promised you hair "as straight and smooth as an Asian's". When I suggested this was, at best, ethnically insensitive, no one seemed to see why. When I asked what they would think of a shampoo that made your hair "curly as an African's" they laughed aloud and said "who would want African hair??" My host family very good-naturedly suggested I dress up as a Black person for Carnaval. Ever heard of "blackface"? Ringing a bell? The most heart-breaking, though, was a woman's remark when she saw a cute little South American Indian baby on TV. She looked at it woefully and said, "Poor thing. How is anyone going to love something so ugly." The most discriminated group is definitely the Roma people, commonly called gypsies. "They steal". "They cheat". "They lie". "They are dirty". No Spaniard would even bat a lash at these statements. And maybe they often are true, but I nonetheless am not OK with automatically judging a person's character just because s/he has "coffee with milk"-colored skin.

I hope in this post I don't appear like I'm bitter and jaded. Of course, no place is perfect, and Spain has some very serious issues on its hands. But I don't for one second regret coming here. Spain is an extremely diverse and beautiful country, and the Spanish are a generous and good-spirited people, always willing to lend a hand and have a good time. I hope I will be able to visit often in the future. If all my friends and I could meet in Oviedo every summer for a reunion I'd be eternally happy. And I hope the people I've met might be willing to visit me back in the USA as well. Wherever I am, you're all welcome!

Oh, and before I forget:

THE UGLY

Belén Esteban. #1 Muppet in Spain. *Shudder*

Next week I start my train journey to Barcelona, France, Amsterdam, Berlin, and London, so stay tuned for much more travel logs!

¡Ay, qué pijería!

OK, so I really should be studying for my Spanish Grammar exam tomorrow. Buuuuuut, I thought I'd pump out another post real quick. Nothing as overwhelming and long-winded as last week's, don't worry. There's a certain topic which has been gnawing at me for ages now, and I think if I write it down then maybe my internal monologues might stop, or at least lighten up. The topic is social class.

Sometime last year I met a girl from San Francisco who grew up in England, and we got talking about the differences between the U.S. and Europe, specifically the U.K. Her opinion was that the U.K. has many fewer racial tensions and inequalities than the United States. She, who is half African- and half European-American, felt like her appearance was much less of an issue when she lived in England (London I believe) than when she later moved back to the U.S. On the contrary, she suggested that in the U.K. there were instead many more prejudices and inequalities with regard to social class. This is an idea I've heard many times in the past. So, now that I have a bit of personal experience, is the Old World really more classist than the New World?

The answer is, yes, I'm afraid it really is. I have heard the most outrageous things since I've lived here. Elitist beliefs seem to be ingrained in society and the most reasonable people will say incredibly prejudiced things without a second thought. There are entire vocabularies for class-related ideas that I have a hard time wrapping my brain around.

My first exposure to this was back in October. I met this Spaniard who had the most peculiar obsession with pijos. He explained to me how they say things like "¡qué fuerte!" and "o sea" all the time, that they dress in brand name clothing and buy the most expensive of everything. I had no idea what a pijo was, so I turned to my trusty dictionary and got "posh" as the definition. This hardly helped. I slowly began to realize, the more I heard this term, that not only were pijo and posh not part of my vocabulary, they weren't part of my world view either.

What this guy was talking about, complaining about, judging and stereotyping, was the upper class of Spanish society. I will always remember when I introduced him to my friend Victor and he quickly said, "oh, we've met." He then proceeded to heckle Victor because the type of shoes he wore and his button-up Dockers shirt marked him as a complete pijo and thus deserving prejudice and public mockery. When I met Victor I never once considered how much money his parents make or what neighborhood he might live in or what his clothing budget might be. He was just a nice guy willing to show me around Oviedo as my officially appointed tour guide. And having gotten to know him quite well, it sounds like his neighborhood is anything but the height of fashion, and his clothing style hardly means he buys toilet paper from El Corte Inglés.

Many more examples come from my time spent with the British. It seems nearly every aspect of British life has a class dimension to it. "Oh that tea is alright, but it's for builders [construction workers]. This one is more in our market." Vacationing in Spain is considered very "common" (as in something commoners do; they still think of commoners). Anyone with any class will prefer to visit France or Italy. Every single Briton in Oviedo knows which of their countrymen is the poshest, and are able to determine this instantly based upon accent. I've even heard my friend Moo referred to as simply "that really posh girl." Crazier still, this seems to successfully remind people of who she is! I swear, it's like as soon as someone says they're from Oxford they're assumed to own a yacht, and as soon as they say their from Coventry, they're assumed to own a switchblade.

Sometimes there are completely different vocabulary even. In America, the final course of a meal is always called "dessert". Not in Britain. If you call it "dessert" you are being posh, and if you call it "pudding" you are being common. The thing you use to wipe your mouth in America is just a napkin. In Britain this is the posh term, with commoner people calling it a "serviette".

I honestly can't think of anything similar to this occurring in the U.S. Granted, more educated people do speak quite differently than less educated people, but it's nowhere near as extreme. Having met quite a few British people, it's amazing that even though they are all university students, some will forever be considered lower than others, based on nothing but their accent. I asked them about this, and they've said it's a tricky subject, because it doesn't just come down to money. You can have lots of money and still be common. You can have quite a humble income and be posh. The fact is, there exists a social divide in Europe which is unparalleled in America.

When I met a friend's parents a while back, I was really caught off guard when she referred to me as "a rather posh American." At the time I didn't say anything; she meant it as the utmost compliment. I didn't even know what to think. Since then I have been pondering what she said. In what way am I posh? She had said this because, in their eyes, I speak much better than most Americans. Most British people secretly (or less than secretly) abhor how Americans speak, making minor exceptions for newscasters, old movies . . . and apparently me.

I suppose to a certain extent this is true. A friend once told me how having a more posh accent has gotten her out of trouble before. When she had a run-in with the police, she merely had to assure them nothing is wrong in her most proper voice and they went on their way. I haven't had any experience quite like this, but I do recall one occasion back in high school. We were at a debate tournament and went up against a team from a rougher part of town. In their opening argument they said things like "They was", "She don't" and "They don't have nowhere to go." We easily beat them, and afterward my teammates remarked, "How do they expect to win if they speak like that?" The sad truth is, my partner and I spoke standard "correct" English, and there was no way they could beat that. It's quite unfair when you think about it. They only speak that way because their parents do. I only speak this way because my parents do. I'd like to say it's because I was the most dedicated pupil in Mr. Hawk's Second Grade grammar class, but the truth is I got it for free. It is an advantage I have over others and I didn't have to do anything to earn it.

Nonetheless, I do not think this makes me "posh". The more I think about the term, the more indignant and defensive I get. They were calling me upper-class, saying I am different, special, elite. This does not sit well with me, and I don't think it would sit well with many Americans. There's something deep-seated in our culture which causes us to decry and deny anything snobbish. If you look at political advertisements, you can see there is a great value placed in being "just a regular joe" with a job and a mortgage, someone who barbecues with the neighbors and belongs to the PTA. It's very bad form to appear "pretentious" or "snooty".

When I was maybe 11 years old I asked my dad, "Dad, are we rich?" To this day I will never forget how upset this made him. He gave me quite the lecture, about how we are very lucky, our family lives quite comfortably, but that in no way are we different or better than anyone else because of our possessions or interests or friends. He stressed that we may have things others don't, but this is only because of hard work and sacrifice. My parents have always been sure to remind us that when I was born we lived in a tiny one-bedroom house with bars on the windows, in a humble neighborhood of Albuquerque, NM. Thrift has always been important; my mom and aunt love to brag how little they spent on any given item.

Categories like "working class", "lower middle class", "upper middle class", "posh", and "common" are all convenient ways of describing how respectable a job someone has, or how long she went to school, or whether he knows which fork to use and how to eat soup. But we must keep in mind that these are nothing more than silly labels. Class, just like Race, is a concept created by human beings. It is a product of our own small-minded worldview, not a reflection of any fundamental world order.

When I lived with my host family, Kike exclaimed once, "¡Ay, qué pijería!". Someone on the television had done something exceedingly pijo, such as dressing a child in a Versace suit. I still don't know how I'd translate the word pijería. Some things, like paella, just don't exist in America.