Category Archives: Living la vida española

Ellis Island in Madrid

Ellis Island

Today I was an immigrant. At second thought, I suppose that each and every day I live in Spain, I am an immigrant. But, today more so. It was time for me to renew my Spanish residency and work permit. This is my second renewal and consists of three stages: (i) presenting a series of documents to the competent authorities (generally a police station), (ii) getting finger printed, and (iii) going to pick up the renewed residency and work permit. But each of these stages occurs about a month a part and includes waiting in very long lines.

This morning, I got all of the necessary paperwork together and headed out for the police station (the one dedicated to immigration matters) closest to my house. The line was about 5 blocks long. Apparently, Spain is now normalizing the immigration status of all Romanians and Bulgarians due to their adhesion into the European Union. I thus changed my mind and went to work. There I spoke with Natascha (on the phone, she is out of the office sick) who recently had her permit renewed. Apparently, the police station in Alcobendas (where I work) has much shorter lines. Well, to make a long story short, I waited in line for 1 hour outside to get into the station. Once inside, I had to take a number and then wait an additional hour for my turn. Upon being attended, I was told that I now had to take another number and wait in a different waiting area in order to hand in my documents. This took an additional 15 minutes.

The great majority of those waiting to have their immigration status resolved were Eastern Europeans, but there were a few Latin Americans and Africans. When I finally turned in my documents, I told the immigration officer that I felt like I was in New York City 90 years ago. He laughed and said that I was the first US citizen he had seen in his office. While the next 2 steps in the process require me to stand in even longer lines and to do so in Aluche (very much out of the way), I was very impressed about how patient and agreeable the immigration officiers were (most of them in their mid to late 20s). One of Spain’s biggest challenges right now is how to deal with massive immigration for the first time in its history. While many people have expressed very exaggerated concerns about the nation’s inevitable demise due to the entry of these immigrants, this was definitely not the impression I got from the officers.

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Jamón Part IV: An Alternative Explanation

Jamoncito Part IV

A few months ago in an attempt to solve the mystery behind why there are so many legs of ham everywhere in Spain and yet there are so few visible pigs, I revealed what may be a massive Jamón Conspiracy (see also, Parts II and III). And Last night while driving around in circles looking for parking with my friends Cobra and Berga, I discovered that there just might be a fourth explanation. Everytime I go into a bar or a supermarket, and I see severed, cured pig legs, I start doing the math. For every 4 legs (two paletillas and two jamones), you are missing one big pig. And as Cobra, Berga, and I were driving around, we kept passing small bars that were packed like sardines with legs of ham hanging everywhere. Then, it finally occurred to me why there were so many pig legs and yet no pigs in sight. If they didn’t cut off the legs and just left the entire pig, then there wouldn’t be any room in these tiny bars for all of the customers. Of course, that’s why they cut the legs off. They desperately need the space. It’s a resource issue. Just imagine going into a bar for tapas and it is full of huge Iberian pigs hanging from the ceiling. The only solution they could reasonably come up with was to discard everything but the front and hind legs. Sacrifice the bodies for greater leg room. Nevertheless, this doesn’t explain where the rest of the pig is hiding.

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La “p” de Filadelfia y la “i” de Hysidro

Son Goku

Hace tiempo que no escribo nada en español en este blog. Como intenté contar esta historia ayer a Hysidro (curioso ser gallego y tener un nombre griego) pero él no quiso hacerme ningún caso, he decido ponerla aquí por escrito. Puede ser que le molestó el hecho de que entre las palabras “estupendo” y “estúpido” solo hay un par de letras. En fin, ya la podrá leer aquí cuando le de la gana. Pues, mi historia tiene que ver con aquel juego estupendo que se hace por teléfono con las operadoras de soporte al cliente. No es una historia de déjà vu sino de “flashback” (palabra que, junto con “foreshadowing” no sé traducir). La historia y su flashback ocurrieron así:

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Is the grass greener?

Butterfly

En inglés tenemos un dicho, “The Grass is greener on the other side of the fence”. Le acabo de preguntar a una compañera mía del trabajo si existe un dicho parecido en español. Claro, tengo que explicar primero que en el mundo ideal americano (que ya es un tópico), tenemos nuestro jardín con su cesped verde y una valla blanca que nos separa con nuestro vecino. Y como siempre pensamos que se vive mejor al otro lado de la valla (que el vecino lo tiene mejor), decimos que tiene el cesped más verde. O quizás que pensamos que se puede vivir mejor de otra forma. Pues, mi compañera lo ha pensado y dice que no existe dicho parecido. De hecho, según su criterio, el dicho simplemente es incorrecto. No es veraz. ¿Pero quién no piensa que la mujer del vecino esté más buena? ¿Tiene más vacaciones? ¿Mejor conexión WiFi?

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Maryland Blue Crabs

Maryland Blue Crabs

I have decided to take a short break from pig conspiracies and Zidane fighting the power to simply reflect upon the beauty of Maryland’s blue crab (“Maryland is for crabs”). I am not a huge crab fan, but I do have wonderful memories of looking into the Chesapeake Bay and seeing my state’s insignia blue crab emerge from the water. What I do enjoy are soft shell crabs (which are not common place in Europe). In Spain, there are a plethora of fish and shell fish to choose from, but no blue crabs. In any event, enough about blue crabs. It’s just nice to see a picture of them every now and then. I shall be home in a few weeks, even if for only a short time. I probably won’t eat any crabs or see any blue ones for that matter. I really don’t care; being at home will suffice (surrounded by the Black-Eyed Susans in my mother’s garden).

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Jamón part III: The saga continues

The saga, the mystery, that conspiracy behind the conspiracy continues. Finally, Spanish jamón is available in the US. This means more jamón legs, but still no one has yet to explain where the pigs are coming from. For  background information, please read Jamón: What nobody wants to admit and Jamón part II: an alternative version. Does this mean more clandestine pig hospitals? More genetic engineering of mutant pigs capable of regenerating their legs? Will Dustin Hoffman be starring in the lead role of the sci-fi thriller?

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Jamón part II: An alternative version

The Matrix

On June 9th, I wrote “Jamón: What nobody wants to admit” about the dark side of Spain’s devotion for its beloved cured pig legs. Allow me to clarify: I am not a huge fan of conspiracy theories, but I do believe that Spanish people bare a hidden secret that they conceal from foreigners like me. As a matter of fact, each time that I bring up the subject in the office, everyone gets very uncomfortable and suspiciously defensive. My theory is that at a young age, children are told by their parents the truth under sworn oath (they are probably even forced to sign an NDA) about how there can be such a vast number of pig legs with so very few pigs. Basically, I have arrived at two possibilities: (i) massive, clandestine imports or (ii) genetically engineered pigs that can regenerate their legs after they have been cut off (yes, sounds like a sci-fi horror movie starring aged and washed up actors).

In any event, my brother, very much the conspiracy theorist, has offered another possibility: The Meatrix. My guess is that he would plea to “fight the power”.

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The World Cup is playing, but I ain’t watching

Glory Days

For those who know me, you may be wondering why the World Cup is playing and yet I am not watching. There is one simple reason: I HAVE TO WORK. But, games are also played in the evening and on weekends, but I can’t always watch them. Why? Because they are only televised in Spain on the following three channels: Cuarto, la Sexta, and Canal+ Digital. Not everyone gets those stations. Cuarto is open and Canal+ is a pay-for channel. And guess what, they are owned by the same company (which is owned by the dude in Spain who owns everything including the government). La Sexta is a new station and does not have universal coverage. In the US (a non-soccer nation) you can see ALL of the games live. In Spain, not all of them are live and some are not even televised. Only Spain’s matches are showed live. Do Spaniard’s simply not care about the rest of the world?

Isn’t the World Cup an international event of important public interest? Why has FIFA permitted the rights to the event to be purchased by two channels who are not giving open access to the people. What would my revolutionary-fight-the-power brother think of this? Actually, a friend of mine has drafted a letter of complaint to FIFA. He suggests that anyone who is outraged should send the same letter (or similar letter) to FIFA in protest. Please find the letter here:

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Mi marca favorita de verano

Braguitas

Cada temporada tiene su moda, su estilo, y su encanto. Por lo tanto, las marcas importantes siempre intentan crear nuevas tendencias para cada estación del año. Pero hay unas marcas y estilos que nunca pasan de moda. Cuando me preguntan ¿cuál es tu marca favorita? Solo tengo una respuesta, la más sencilla: la de las bragas. Aquella marca que dejan las bragas. Y sí, puedo llegar a ser más tonto.

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Jamón: What nobody wants to admit

Jamoncito

I have been living in Spain now for almost 6 years, and I have always found Spaniard’s blind devotion to jamón (cured pigs legs) to be rather curious. You often witness Spaniards declare “no hay nada como un jamón” (there is nothing like jamón). Every time I hear someone make such a sweeping statement of idolotry for the flesh of a pig’s leg, I think these people have most likely had one slice too many (hence, the extremely low birth rate in Spain). I can easily think of a dozen things in life that are more valuable to me than deli meat or food in general. And over time, I have even grown to abhore dried pork legs. Having said this, I also must admit that for the past 6 months I have actually begun having my first cravings for jamón.

But my personal relationship to jamón is not at issue in this post. Rather this post explores what I suspect to be an unknown conspiracy behind the Spanish delicacy. I have brought it up on numerous occassions in the past few days at work, and no one (with the sole exception of Martha who happens to be from Colombia, not Spain) seems to be concerned . That in and of itself concerns me. Why doesn’t anyone want to question the obvious? What are they trying to hide? Please permit me to explain . . .

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