Thanksgiving in Spain

Thanksgiving – that most American of holidays – is not celebrated in Spain. Working remotely for an American company, I got to enjoy the day off while Dreamer had to work on Thursday. Finally, retribution for all those Spanish holidays she rubbed in my face! We had decided earlier on, though – like, practically when we arrived here – that we wanted to show our new Spanish friends a traditional American Thanksgiving dinner. And thus, our plans for celebrating Día de Acción de Gracias were launched. To comply with the Spanish work schedule, we had our feast at 4pm on the Saturday afternoon following

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What’s with all the parades, fancy dresses, and fireworks?

Ever since we moved to the small Spanish city of Burriana, we have been stumbling upon longstanding cultural traditions almost every time we leave our building. Our first week here coincided with an annual festival which includes bulls running through the streets; and while I had promised myself I would never watch any bull spectacles, that resolve quickly disappeared when we needed to go to the city hall, and found bulls running in front of said hall. It was an intense week – even when we stayed home, we could hear cannons, fireworks, music, and general merrymaking from our abode.

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This is what I’ve always wanted . . . right?

One of the middle-class, Midwestern American staples we decided to forgo in Spain is dependence upon an automobile. Yes, we occasionally rent cars – and I’m confident Doer will have more to say about these adventures in the near future. For the most part, however, I’ve come to rely upon other modes of transportation. And for the most part, I’ve been happy with this. We’re very fortunate that we were placed in a city that’s on a commuter train line, which can easily bring us to other train lines and even to an airport (with a little help from a metro

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Giant people, aaaah!

We are very proud of our little town’s ability to throw a good parade. We’ve seen two or three so far and there seem to be many more to come. They accomplish in 15-20 minutes what apparently takes four hours in Valencia. As opposed to the Nou d’Octubre celebration there, ours was arguably much cooler and over in just a fraction of the time, while still giving the gist of the occasion. The dancing figures were particularly cool. Thar Be real, normal-sized people under there. You can see them lined up above and in the videos below. We are told

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Do NOT give away free stuff to Spaniards

Tuesday, October 11th was a very special day at the local market. Yes, the kind of market where each vendor has a stall. The kind of market I have always dreamed of visiting and buying stuff at. Our town has one, as does every town here; bigger cities of course have several. And I love buying specialty products here. But this Tuesday, as I entered, I noticed a crowd of people that was not normally there. Tuesday is also the flea market in the area surrounding the market building, but this crowd was not here for that; no, their presence

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A mouse in the house

The past few days have been trying. Kudos to Dreamer (seriously) for keeping her sh*t together while we knew we had a mouse in the house. Remarkably calm knowing this info. Incidents like these really help me cement my Spanish vocabulary: ratón – a mouse, also the thing you use to move the pointer on a desktop computer rata – a rat, which is definitely, thankfully, NOT what we had trampa – a trap cola – glue and so on… When I first saw the little grey thing skittering across my office floor into the hallway, I was in disbelief – so

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