The other day, in a particularly boring class, I started to make a list of things I've been missing while on my study abroad adventure. I've been here a month and have fallen in love with certain aspects of the Spanish life, but I've also been away long enough to begin to crave some things from home.
Embarrassingly, my list contained more wishes for certain foods than anything else. Breakfasts of bread and olive oil are starting to get old. Yogurt is eaten as dessert here, so after realizing my faux pas the first week, I now leave it untouched in the mornings and continue to munch on my plain carbohydrates.
But secretly, I am craving French toast, fruit salad, and smoothies. And breakfast is just the beginning. It would be great to find a pizza without tuna on it or a salad with some dressing, also without tuna. And can a girl get a cupcake or is that just too much to ask?
Southern Spain is the land of tapas - small dishes eaten at local bars. The variety is overwhelming if you're willing to try everything you're offered. Seafood reigns supreme, only slightly above all different types of pork. Following these are various types of olives, cheeses, and potato dishes, to name the most popular.
I'm embarrassed to say I've been pretty unadventurous until now. I can't seem to bring myself to try the garlic prawns or even the cured ham, mostly because after watching them hack off a slice from a pig's leg hanging from the ceiling I seem to lose my appetite. Apparently, one person's culinary adventure is my stomach's version of a nightmare, so I've been sticking to the delicious tortilla espanola (a kind of potato omelet) and juicy garlic chicken.
Grievances aside, I am learning to strike a balance between my familiar foods and newly acquired tastes. For example, a dinner of paella (a regional rice dish) and toast tastes even better with a scoop of Ben & Jerry's afterwards.
But food isn't the only thing I am finding fault in these days. I've recently found this city to be less than supportive of American sports. Trying to convince a bar last week to let a few of us watch the Sox game involved a bit of bribery and many polite attempts to make a formal request in Spanish.
Granted, the game started at 2:30 a.m.; but why call your bar Lone Star Tex-Mex if you're not willing to cater to American students desperate to see a ballgame?
As a serious Sox fan, missing an inning simply isn't an option. My obsession drove me to purchase an international package so I can watch all the games on my computer, should the bars continue to be less than accommodating.
The next step was to find audio coverage of our football team. After my success at MLB.com, I never thought I wouldn't be able to listen to Boston College take on Notre Dame. But in this case, I was out of luck; our games aren't broadcast overseas on the Internet, so watching it on satellite is the only option. But I think I speak for every Superfan here when I say I'd rather watch Steve Aponavicius kick another game-winning field goal on a flat screen at a bar than read about the facts on the Internet the next day, but trying to convince one to show your school's game is easier said than done.
Watching the Sox game on my laptop allows me to listen in on the sounds I miss from home. Something is different now, however, because on the late nights when I watch the live games, those sounds are mixed with the new ones that float through my window. People are returning from the discos, the street cleaners are power washing outside in the square, and mopeds are always speeding by. I realize now how lucky I am to love two places so much,and to be able to uniquely experience them at the same time.
For all my complaining that I can't find a plate of pancakes or a place to watch the Yankees lose, most of these are easily solved non-problems and maybe I've just reached a point where I'm simply looking for something to complain about. At BC, we lament the housing process, the attendance policies of certain teachers, and how expensive all the food is, but if most of us are honest, these are small prices to pay for four years on the Heights.
Same with Sevilla. Maybe I can't find a chocolate chip cookie or a Yoplait for breakfast, but I'm nowhere close to trading this in for some familiar food. Plus, if all goes according to plan, my mom will take me seriously and actually pack a cake in her bag when she comes to visit and my best friend will send me some of Philadelphia's Butterscotch Krimpets in the mail. If not, I guess I'll just have another piece of bread. There are worse things, and for me this still includes a fresh slice of pig leg, no matter how popular it might be.
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