I knew that Barcelona would introduce me to cultural experiences I had never even heard of before, but on an ordinary November Saturday I stumbled upon the unlikeliest of experiences.
November. In the States this symbolizes a month to celebrate Veteran’s Day, Thanksgiving and Black Friday or remembrance, thanks and SHOPPING, respectively. My favorite of those three is hands down Thanksgiving; a US holiday predicated on family and thankfulness, not without controversy, but definitely without gifts! To non US Americans and my ESADE classmates, it’s an opportunity to taste some of the famous Thanksgiving Turkey they hear about. Unfortunately, it’s quite a labor intensive holiday so we’ve limited the official 2010 celebration to US Passport holders. Lo siento!
The thing about Thanksgiving is that you cannot be a chef and enter the day cold turkey (pun very much intended). In an attempt to acclimate ourselves in a Spanish kitchen, Stilts, OVietnam and I set out to practice the big day with a rehearsal Turkey Day. We educated our Lebanese sous chef and even allowed two Canadians to the table, but not after an eventful preparation day throughout Barcelona.
The day before our rehearsal, we met OVietnam at Mercat de la Boqueria to pick up none other than ‘Ted the Turkey’. Upon first entering la Boqueria I smiled with a hint of rebellion; my sheer presence here was me turning my nose up to the food standards of the States. We meandered through food stand after food stand until we found the selected meat counter…OH MY GOD is there going to be a HEAD on our TURKEY….ok focus, not all the turkeys have heads on them. WAIT! I signed up to help with Thanksgiving, but I did not sign up to chop the head off of a turkey. Thankfully, we ordered the headless variety and so what if Stilt’s hasn’t yet mastered the metric system and grossly overestimated kilos. We were now the proud owners of a 20lb turkey (WAY too much meet for 6 people). Practice Thanksgiving here we come!
But first, we had to run some errands as I was headed to a Diwali party later that evening. Prior to the week leading up to Diwali, I had never heard of the holiday. Shame on me, but this is all part of me learning! I learned a little about Ram coming back after being banished and the symbolism of good defeating bad and the marking of this event known as the ‘Festival of Lights’. In an effort to fully explore my newfound education, I decided to drag Stilts through Raval in order to find a festive outfit to wear to Bollywood Restaurant later that night. Ted came too.
Earlier, I mentioned the food standards of the US for a reason. In the States, you pick up your Thanksgiving Day turkey and it’s wrapped up nicely in a tight plastic wrap and its innards are neatly placed in a plastic bag inside the carcass. Not in Spain. As we weaved through tourists, pickpockets and policemen on La Rambla, Ted the Turkey was sticking half way out of the disproportionately small plastic bag, each leg flopping in an opposite direction with my every step.
I borrowed Stilt’s Spanish to ask a local souvenir shop owner where I could find native dress for the Diwali party. Ted and I stood off to the side and drew awkward stares from passersby. After being pointed in the proper direction, I stopped to grab some cash from the ATM—American female with an excessive amount of bags in her hands, fumbling with her wallet on Rambla equals prime target for some of the ‘wallet regulars’ in that area. But the 20 pound turkey hanging halfway out of the bag and now leaking from a small hole was more baffling than anything else.
But Diwali and Bollywood were our motivation and we charged on until we stumbled upon the desired location. The shopkeeper quickly dressed me with some festive garb. I am still not sure if she was excited that an overly eager American Catholic was dressing up for Diwali party or if she wanted to rush me out the door because a turkey was poking out from my bag and leaking on her floor, but that is neither here nor there.
The Diwali party was a blast! I showed up in my new outfit and shocked a few people with my commitment. ESADE took over the restaurant and transformed it into a dance floor, hired Bollywood dancers to boot! It was great to see some of our more reserved classmates relish in the glory of the Festival of Lights and teach us a few of their native dance moves. The following day, in between basting Ted and slicing apples, I looked at the photos from the evening. My favorites were the random ones I snapped from my toes focusing on the center of the dance floor. I never captured a specific person or persons, but I did capture smiles on EVERYONE’s face. For me, east met west in Barcelona for a day.
It was an experience that I am thankful for this November.
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