"12 Lucky Grapes"
You can buy cans of 12 grapes in the grocery store. Liz and Courtney bought this one.
I'm not sure what you were doing when the clock struck midnight and we dove into 2011, but I was stuffing 12 grapes into my mouth while attempting to say "¡¡Feliz año nuevo!!" and kissing each cheek of a group of Spaniards in a Spanish couple's apartment in Almería, Spain.
I was lucky enough to be placed in a school with a handful of younger teachers. Now, by younger teachers this means 30 and above, but they tell me that I seem to be around their age from a combination of who I am added onto the fact that the majority of Americans leave the coddling of their parents home at the age of 18. Spaniards normally leave this protective environment at much older ages which can span into their 30's and therefore makes a large difference between myself and Spaniards my age. It's just a different culture-- and before you judge -- it works for them.
Anyways, my luck has given me some pretty amazing Spanish friends outside of the workplace. Only one of them speaks English with me, so it's even better!
One of these teachers, José Ramon, is from Almería, another Andalucian city up the coast 3 hours from Málaga. His family still lives there, and he always tells me that his "heart" is there (I figured this was a girl but this wasn't actually confirmed until this weekend). Next to Almería is a National Park which has been the obsession of my GoogleImage searches for sometime now. José just happens to also have a bungalow there as well and has been trying to get me to come and visit him in his city. I decided I had to take advantage of the situation and so Marilo (another teacher from my school) picked me up in her car last Thursday and we drove to Almería. I knew it would be a weekend to remember full of more Spanish than I could imagine, and I couldn't have been more correct.
After a beautiful 3 hour car ride on the Mediterranean Highway (no seriously, that's its name) filled with Spanish conversation about Chinese immigrants and Spanish dating rituals, we arrived at the Almería Bus Station where José met us with his moped. He led us to his family's old apartment which they still own in the city. I'm always excited by a free place to stay and at this point in my traveling experiences after sleeping on trains and my luggage in airports, I consider a bed a luxury.
I had an amazing weekend aside from the New Year's Eve celebration (blog coming), but I have never felt so immersed in the language and culture as I did the night of December 31st.
Before the New Year's Eve festivities, they had asked me if I wanted to make any food to bring along. I had been prompted in the car on the way to the supermarket with them, so I started racking my brain for ideas. The recipe I described to them that follows is something that they bring up all the time and make fun of me for. They now call them "MacKenzie's Special New Year's Crackers". Well, the title is in Spanish, but you get the picture.
In my mind I decided it would be easy to get some crackers, spread cream cheese on top and then jelly/jam. For Spaniards, this would be a very rich food, which is something that I wanted to share with them because a majority of the foods that they have are not extremely flavorful. So I described that I needed crackers, cream cheese and preservatives in Spanish to them. The problem is that the Spanish word "preservativo" means condom. I already knew this, but in my whirlwind of telling them this recipe I had just thought of in the car and the obvious fact that I forgot that the word "marmalada" would have been correct, I told my friends that I was going to make crackers with cream cheese spread on top, topped with condoms. You should have seen the look on their faces. Priceless. Right after I said it I started laughing because I realized what I had said but it was too late. They will never let me live that one down.
Marilo, José Ramon, his girlfriend and I all went over to one of José Ramon's friend's house where I met three Spanish couples. I found out later that one of the men was José Ramon's cousin. They had prepared a grand spread including chorizo, jamón ibérico (a special ham unique to Spain), a Spanish form of quiche, a weird Spanish version of an empanada, and of course, a heaping mound of shrimp. I have found that shrimp (with eyes intact and all) are served at all formal meals. I don't even notice the eyes anymore because the shrimp is so amazing. They keep on insisting I eat the weird mush of the brain because it is the "best" part, but I'm going to be honest and tell you I'm still working myself up to that. We all ate and drank until we couldn't move. I was then presented with a party bag they had purchased with party hats and such to use for the countdown. In Spain the whole country tunes their TV's to watch the countdown featuring la Plaza del Sol in Madrid, Spain, where a Spanish party the equivalent to Time Square in New York City occurs.
The customs for New Year's Eve are quite different here. I love the name that they have for New Years Eve, which is called the "Old Night" in Spanish. A joke in true Spanish form, like everything here. After all, the oldest night of the year is December 31st, right? Anyways, Spaniards have told me that it is customary to eat dinner with your family (remember dinner is at about 9 p.m. here) and then go out to a club/bar or sing Christmas carols with your family until the wee hours of the morning.
I should mention that here, they don't refer to Christmas as the two days most Americans use to refer to it. Spaniards start the celebration Christmas Eve and it goes until January 6, which is the "Dia de los Reyes". This literally means the day of the kings (the Three Wisemen). In Spain, Santa brings the kids a small present for Christmas morning, but they wait eagerly for the morning of January 6th when the the Three Wisemen bring them all of their gifts. This is celebrated in conjunction to when the Three Wisemen gave gifts to Jesus. While this blog is about New Year's Eve, it's important to understand that New Year's Eve is in the middle of the week and a half span they refer to as Christmas. Because of this, everyday you tell people merry Christmas, and on New Year's Eve many families are still singing Christmas carols.
The 12 Grapes
Before the clock struck 12, all of the Spaniards were hastily separating 12 grapes into different cups before the countdown began. Some were even taking the seeds out (cheating, mine had the seeds and all). Here, everyone counts down to the new year from 12 seconds, and every second you put another grape into your mouth. The goal is to have eaten all of them when the clock strikes midnight. This sounds easier than it is. Eating 12 plump grapes in 12 seconds is quite a feat. At midnight, there isn't the usual yelling and instant kissing on the lips between people in relationships, or, well, haha, those who just want a friend for the night. Instead, everyone gives the classic "dos besos". In Spain, every time you haven't seen someone, meet someone new, or I swear enter a room you greet people by kissing each cheek.
If you can't fit all of the grapes into your mouth, you will have bad luck for the next year. Luckily, I was successful my first attempt at this custom, so let's hope I really do have good luck.
Afterwards we sat around and José Ramon, his cousin and his other friend played the guitar and a variety of cultural drums from until 2 in the morning. Then, of course, as usual with most outings, we had a change of venue. I was told we were going to walk to his cousin's home where their whole family was.
I was greeted by a group of about 20 people from the age of 35 to 65. They were all dancing and singing. A man sat at the piano playing song after song with a boat captain's hat on. It was miraculous because in true Spanish form, he was smoking a cigarette at the same time. However, it needed to be ashed about 5 minutes before so I was just amazed that the ash hadn't fallen into his lap from the cigarette that was no more. They sang song after song. Spanish Christmas carol after Spanish Christmas carol. All of these 55 year-olds dancing, singing, getting high, topping off wine glass after wine glass. I of course was forced to eat every type of food they had eaten and tried to out of politeness. No seriously, I had no space in my stomach but they all wanted me to try "Spanish" food. It was amazing. Everyone was truly enjoying themselves and the night with each other. Women broke out in live flamenco, men added crazy instruments, people traded positions on the Spanish flamenco box drum, and everyone clapped in true flamenco form.
I have never seen people of that age party harder than me until 6 a.m. Then, they broke out the Beatles. "Hey Jude" was up next on the piano and I was of course beckoned over to teach the correct lyrics to the song. Luckily it's one of my all time favorites. I listen to broken English all of the time and I don't ask questions or correct unless I am teaching in fear of coming off harshly, but "Hey Jude" is one thing I need to hear correctly.
I went to bed at about 9 a.m. that night. I don't think I'll ever forget it. Once again, people took me in as one of their own. I can't be more thankful. Other people's kindness here has inspired me to always make a true effort in the future to make people feel as welcome as these people have.
In order to say thank you for all of their generosity for the long weekend I made a huge American breakfast the next afternoon when we finally woke up. They are so amazed we eat so much in the morning. I don't think they'll ever understand it. I can't imagine bringing them out for an all you can eat brunch.
Miss you all.
Kenzie Shea
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