But not really, except for everyone who was in Berchules last night and stuffed their mouth with grapes on each midnight chime. In Spain there is a tradition of eating a grape during each midnight chime, it is not that easy to do, but luckily they finally discovered the seedless grapes in Spain! For a first time I really did great. I managed to have all the twelve grapes on each chime, and take pictures at the same time!It was a pretend new year party, and I suppose for Spain it's just normal. Any reason, to get drunk and stat partying is good enough... Even celebrating the new year in August. They even had nativity scene competitions earlier in the day, and the three kings travelling across the village giving away the sweets. It decorated the streets with the dung of the mules that carried the kings and the sweets, but nobody seemed too be bothered about it!
It was my first visit to a Spanish fiesta, I went with a female company while my husband stayed at home to dog-sit, and as soon as I got to the centre of the village, I realised it wasn't very wise of me. Every single bunch of guys that we passed in the street stared at us, probably counting how many of pieces of clothing they'd have to take off to see us naked.
Most Spanish men left their wives behind, at home with children and went off to have a good time, just so typical of this double standard Spain, where divorce rate is still extremely low. It is not a bad thing, the low divorce rate, but I think it exists only because Spanish women put up with it as they have stigma about divorces. Obviously I can not point fingers myself, after all my husband was at home on his own getting drunk, while I was partying. I confess I loved it, even though I didn't get drunk, or laid, or god knows what.
From the last night experience I can tell, that the only thing you need to have a good time in a Spanish fiesta is a smile on your face. People will come up to you and start talking, if you don't speak Spanish they'll find someone who speaks English, but if you do speak Spanish they will release their machine gun of a tongue! There is drink flow all the time, and everyone just keeps asking what do you fancy, are you hungry or else. Everyone is in such a joyous mood that they really don't care how much does it cost or can they afford it. It's Fiesta Time!
The whole reason for this fiesta is because a few years ago, the village of Berchules was literally cut off, it was so bad they had to cancel the new year celebrations. They were snowed under, without electricity and without a party and I would assume very miserable too. So to compensate themselves, they decided to celebrate the new year later next year. It was so popular that it took off, and now it happens every year. As I mentioned earlier Spanish don't need a great deal of reasons to party.
I had a great time too, I enjoyed Spanish beer, Spanish company, Spanish music, Spanish dancing everything that is and should be a part of a Spanish fiesta. The noise, the crowd, the heat of other people around you, the atmosphere of happiness. It could even make Scrooge smile, I promise. If nothing else, it would be at least the free beer that would make him delighted.
I even found myself a great Spanish dancing partner, and discovered a dancer inside of me after all. I did not realise how much fun it can be to spin around, in the arms of a very macho stranger, even if you're married, even though you're grown up and responsible, even though like in that song - you don't want him walking you home tonight or any other night. I was told by my friends this morning that after I left he kept asking about me, even though he is married with two kids himself, I was simply glad, because I realised I left just in time.
Unfortunately I am not a super party person, and I didn't take my writer hat with me, I kept my I-am-a-married-woman hat on throughout. That was one of the reasons I left early leaving my company to continue partying all night long.
I was slowly, and guiltily crawling up the hills of Berchules with two ham bocadillos* in my hands.
When I finally got home, shared the bocadillos with my man and afterwards crashed with him in our bed. I was happy to cuddle up to my moaning "you came home too early" husband.
No fiesta can replace the happiness of being with the man you love, and in a way I wish I could keep my I-am-a-married-woman hat on forever. Spanish fiesta it's just like any other party, and it ends the same too. Some will be drunk out of their minds and fall over, some will be arrested, others will get laid, or just fall asleep in the street. They all will tell you the next day they had a great time - and yes they did. It is great seeing the party without seeing the outcome, without realising that still underneath all those pretty clothes and jewellery we are animals - all of us. I am either too old or simply too boring to deal with that.
*Sandwich in Spanish
No comments:
Post a Comment