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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Spain, where a medieval walled village is just a short bike ride away

Last Saturday Doer and I explored the walled medieval town of Mascarell in our province of Castellón. This tiny hamlet is one kilometer from Nules, the municipality neighboring our own city, Burriana, and we reached it after riding about 25 minutes along a bike path, a route which took us past ceramic factories and orange orchards – the latter are about as common in the autonomous Valencian Community as corn fields are in Nebraska (maybe even more so). We encountered scores of other bicyclists along the way, leading me to safely assume that cycling through the countryside is a common weekend pastime here. The history

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Burguer Cangreburguer…

(no, that is not a misspelling, at least not as far as the Spanish are concerned) What do we watch when Colbert is on vacation? Spanish TV, of course! Kids’ shows are the best: right about at our vocabulary level, and they almost always include subtitles. SpongeBob SquarePants (aka “Bob Esponja”) is a particular favorite of mine that I think I accidentally got Dreamer hooked on. As with Los Simpson, oftentimes I’ve seen the episode before, so it makes following the action a little easier. Things are translated to varying degrees: sometimes a joke crosses cultural boundaries; sometimes, it does not. And

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Catharsis (a tribute to Buddy)

[This is a post dealing with some things I’ve been needing to get off my chest for a while. There are lots of mentions of cruelty to animals AND WHERE MEAT COMES FROM, so you might not want to read it if you’re squeamish or a bleeding-heart animal lover like my wife. You have been warned.] Moving your entire life overseas isn’t easy. Sure, we may portray it as a dream, and we are certainly trying to enjoy ourselves now, but there was just so much work to get to this point. Even now, I think Dreamer and I are

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