A couple of summers ago, Ruth and I welcomed into our home a friendly young man from Córdoba for a few weeks. Alejandro had just graduated from high school and was preparing to begin university studies in Córdoba upon his return from Virginia. He was inquisitive, eager to learn about American ways, so we included him in our family events, in cookouts with the staff of La Tienda, and of course introduced him to the joys of Red Sox baseball (which he truly enjoys!)

He also was interested in different expressions of Christian worship, comparing them to his experience as a traditional Catholic back home in Córdoba. As we attended various church services and compared the differences and similarities, he told me of his dream to be one of the men who carry on their shoulders the extremely heavy mahogany pasos with images of the Passion of Christ during Semana Santa. This year he turned eighteen and his father gave him permission to take on this arduous responsibility.

Each year Semana Santa, or Holy Week, which leads up to Pascua (Easter) is at the heart of the Spanish culture. This dramatic reenactment of the last days of Jesus’s life on earth is woven into the fabric of Spain, and if you happen upon a Semana Santa celebration, you will be affected by it whether or not you are a believer.

If you are from a Roman Catholic background it will all be familiar, and something in which you can participate and enjoy with little effort. Sometimes for uninitiated North American visitors, it is a puzzling event. It even can be an alienating one: anonymous hooded penitents walking barefoot on the streets into the night, life-sized figures of the passion, which are unnervingly real in their portrayal. However, if you suspend your preconceptions and are willing to identify with the emotion and piety of your Spanish companions I think you will find the processions a memorable experience.

Last month, when we were visiting Alejandro’s family in Córdoba, I asked him if he would be willing to share with us what makes Semana Santa meaningful to him. He had just completed training to be a costalero, a man who, with other members of the brotherhood, would be bearing the paso on his shoulders for the first time.

This, unedited, is what he wrote to me in English:

SPANISH SEMANA SANTA
Written by Alejandro Rodríguez Muñoz

I hope this explanation will help you. Any further information, please don’t hesitate in asking me. I’m proud of writing all of this for you.

I think you can feel that Alejandro is innately proud of his contribution to his community as he joins his brothers in the hermandad. As you can see from his letter, he is proud to be able to tell all of us about how meaningful his Semana Santa experience is – and he is writing us in English, no less.

I hope many of you will take the opportunity in Spain to witness this unique experience, which is a special part of the Latin culture across the world – from Toledo in Spain to Manila in The Philippines.

Su amigo,

Don

Un par de veranos atrás Ruth y yo acogimos unas semanas en casa a un joven cordobés de carácter abierto y simpático. Alejandro había acabado el Bachillerato y se preparaba para iniciar sus estudios universitarios a su regreso a Córdoba. Era un joven inquieto y deseoso de aprender sobre las costumbres americanas así que lo incluimos en nuestras reuniones familiares, barbacoas con el personal de La Tienda y por supuesto lo iniciamos en las delicias del béisbol de los Red Sox. (¡Algo de lo que realmente disfruta!)

Demostraba interés a su vez por las diferentes expresiones del culto cristiano, y las comparaba con su experiencia como católico tradicional de allá de Córdoba. Después de asistir a varios servicios en la iglesia y comparar diferencias y similitudes, me habló de su sueño de convertirse en costalero, uno de los hombres que llevan sobre sus hombros los extremadamente pesados pasos de caoba con imágenes de la Pasión de Cristo durante la Semana Santa. Este año cumplió dieciocho años y su padre le dio permiso para que aceptara esa ardua responsabilidad.

Cada año la Semana Santa que culmina con la Pascua resurge en el corazón de la cultura española. Esta impresionante conmemoración de los últimos días de la vida de Jesús en la Tierra forma parte del tejido de España, y si por casualidad viene a toparse con ella, quedará conmovido tanto si es como si no es creyente.

Para los de origen Católico Romano les resultará todo muy familiar y será algo de lo que se sentirán partícipes y disfrutarán a penas se lo propongan. Sin embargo, para los visitantes norteamericanos no iniciados, puede resultar un acontecimiento desconcertante. Quizás pueda llegar hasta distanciarlos de la cultura española: anónimos penitentes de largos capirotes que procesionan descalzos en la noche, imágenes a tamaño natural que representan de manera turbadoramente real escenas de la Pasión. En cambio, si logra dejar a un lado ideas preconcebidas y está dispuesto a identificarse con la emoción y el fervor del pueblo español estoy convencido de que vivirá en las procesiones una experiencia inolvidable.

El mes pasado, mientras visitábamos a la familia de Alejandro en Córdoba, le pregunté si estaría dispuesto a compartir con nosotros lo que convierte a la Semana Santa en algo tan significativo para él. Acababa de terminar sus ensayos como costalero, como hombre que junto con otros hermanos de la cofradía soporta el peso del paso sobre sus hombros por primera vez.

El texto que sigue, me lo escribió en inglés:

SEMANA SANTA ESPAÑOLA
Alejandro Rodríguez Muñoz

Alejandro

De seguro se dan cuenta de que Alejandro se siente orgulloso de forma innata de su contribución a la comunidad al unirse a los hermanos de su cofradía. Es obvio por sus palabras que se enorgullece de poder trasladarnos el inestimable valor de sus vivencias en la Semana Santa, además de que lo hace expresándose en inglés.

Espero que muchos de Uds. tengan la oportunidad de vivir en España esta experiencia, algo único que la cultura hispana aporta al mundo, desde Toledo en España a Manila en las Filipinas.

Su amigo,

Don

I have talked with some Spaniards within our La Tienda community who tell us how they are building new lives in America. Still more tell stories about their grandparents, parents, uncles or aunts who left everything behind in Spain to take advantage of fresh opportunities for their families in America. Some of them were fishermen from Galicia, miners from Asturias and mountain people of the Basque Country. Their sense of adventure and perseverance is why their Spanish descendants prosper today in America.

A parallel drama is occurring here at La Tienda in Virginia, where our staff is composed of at least a dozen different nationalities from Latin America, Asia and Europe. Many, like the Spaniards of an earlier generation, have come from areas of civil war and poverty, and are determined to start a new life.

Through La Tienda, our family tries the best we can to support them with health benefits and a great working environment. They are welcomed as one of us in the La Tienda family. In the long run, perhaps the most valuable resource we provide them is the opportunity to learn the English language.

When Raúl, a husband and father, joined us, he could only sign his name with an “X”. He now uses English as his first written language, and is proud that he speaks his newly acquired language with growing fluency. Another worker, Evelyn, left behind her large family in El Salvador, and is working hard to support herself and her family as best she can. Her face lights up with a smile when she speaks to me in English.

Another of our employees, Lisseth, is a remarkable woman, inquisitive and full of energy. She is one who has prospered within the family of La Tienda workers. In fact, she has done so well that we have just promoted her to Line Supervisor in our warehouse.

Lisseth Borrego and her husband were happily married for fourteen years when they decided to take the risk of leaving the familiar confines of Cuba in order to improve life for themselves and their children in the United States. They knew there would be major challenges as they tried to adapt to a new culture and way of life. One cannot anticipate all the bumps in the road.

Because they spoke no English at all they knew this would be a major hurdle to climb. However, Lisseth had hoped that with a degree in elementary education from Cuba, there might be some slot for her, however humble, within the American school system. Unfortunately, it turned out that her skills were not marketable.

In an interview by Narille Living in the Williamsburg Neighbors Magazine, Lisseth said, “It was very hard the first two years I was here. I was nervous about going places because I wasn’t sure where it was safe and where it wasn’t. My husband and children were the only family I had here, so I didn’t even have anyone else to ask questions.” But Lisseth was undaunted. She was determined to learn to speak and read English, so that she would not spend her life being fearful, looking in from outside.

Then she signed up for a job at La Tienda and proceeded to work diligently. To her delight, Lisseth soon discovered that La Tienda provided free classes for any employees who wanted to learn English. The tutors came to our work site because of our partnership with a wonderful local group called Literacy for Life, associated with the College of William & Mary, staffed largely by volunteers. Neighbors from the Williamsburg area give their time to meet with those new to the area who would like to learn English.

Lisseth enthusiastically took advantage of this opportunity. Once a week for two hours she attended classes with some of her fellow employees. Wanting to progress as quickly as possible, she also signed up for sessions held after work. In September 2011, she passed her citizenship test, and a month later was sworn in as a United States citizen.

Now Lisseth is able to help fellow workers who do not understand as much English as she does. Although she does not know whether she could become a tutor herself, she encourages others to continue their efforts to learn. She has advice for those who might be struggling with learning the English language. “It’s hard, but if I can do it, you can do it,” she emphasizes.

We are proud to offer help to these hard-working immigrants, and they have become part of our La Tienda family. But we know that they deserve the most credit, for their courage and determination to start a new life and their commitment to learn a new language and learn a new way of living. Like the immigrants from Spain, current and of generations past, they are seeking out a better life for their families, while still treasuring the culture and traditions of their own countries.  

Su amigo,

Don

He hablado con algunos españoles de la comunidad de La Tienda que me han contado cómo se han ido construyendo su nueva vida en Estados Unidos. Aún más son los que nos cuentan historias sobre sus abuelos, padres, tíos o tías que lo abandonaron todo en España para aprovechar las nuevas oportunidades de sus familias en América. Algunos eran pescadores gallegos, otros mineros asturianos y gente de la montaña del País Vasco. Fue su sentido de la aventura y la perseverancia lo que ha proporcionado prosperidad a sus descendientes hoy en América.

Un drama similar es el que se vive aquí y ahora en Virginia en La Tienda, cuyo personal se compone de empleado de al menos doce nacionalidades de entre Hispano-América, Asia y Europa. Muchos de ellos, tal como hicieron los españoles de una generación anterior, proceden de países que se hallan en guerra civil o con altos índices de pobreza y están decididos a iniciar una nueva vida.

A través de La Tienda nuestra familia intenta con todas sus fuerzas apoyarlos ofreciéndoles cobertura médica y buenas condiciones de trabajo. Los recibimos como a uno más de la familia de La Tienda. A largo plazo, quizás el mayor beneficio que les podemos ofrecer es la oportunidad de aprender inglés.

Cuando Raúl, casado y padre de familia vino a trabajar con nosotros, sólo sabía firmar con una cruz. Hoy en día ya escribe en inglés y se enorgullece de hablar la nueva lengua cada vez con más fluidez. Otra empleada, Evelyn, dejó atrás a su gran familia en El Salvador y trabaja con todas sus fuerzas para mantenerse ella y para mantener a esa gran familia. Se le ilumina la cara con una sonrisa cuando me habla en inglés.

Otra empleada, Lisseth, es una extraordinaria mujer, con inquietudes y llena de energía. Lisseth es una de las que ha prosperado dentro de la familia de empleados de La Tienda. En realidad lo ha hecho tan bien que acaba de ser ascendida a Supervisora de Línea en nuestros almacenes.

Lisseth Borrego y su esposo llevaban catorce años de feliz matrimonio cuando decidieron arriesgarse a abandonar a sus familiares en Cuba con el fin de buscar una vida mejor para ellos y para sus hijos en los Estados Unidos. Sabían que se enfrentarían a difíciles retos en el proceso de adaptación a una nueva cultura y forma de vida. Uno no puede predecir todos los baches con los que se encontrará.

Puesto que no hablaban inglés en absoluto sabían que se encontrarían con obstáculos añadidos. Sin embargo, Lisseth albergaba la esperanza de que con el diploma de Educación Primaria cubano tendría una oportunidad, aunque fuera pequeña, dentro del Sistema Educativo americano. Desgraciadamente, con el paso del tiempo descubrió que su preparación no era la que el mercado requería.

En la entrevista de Narille para la revista Living in the Williamsburg Neighbors, Lisseth afirmaba: “Mis dos primeros años aquí fueron muy duros. Me inquietaba mucho ir a nuevos lugares porque temía por nuestra seguridad. Mi marido y mis hijos eran la única familia que tenía aquí, así que no había a quién pedir consejo”. Pero Lisseth no se amilanó. Estaba decidida a aprender a hablar y leer inglés y evitar así pasarse el resto de su vida temerosa y mirando a la sociedad desde fuera.

Más tarde encontró un empleo entre nosotros en La Tienda y trabajó con diligencia. Para su sorpresa, Lisseth descubrió que La Tienda ofrece clases gratuitas de inglés para los empleados que lo deseen. Los profesores llegaron a este centro de trabajo a través de nuestra asociación con una maravillosa agrupación local llamada Literacy for Life (Alfabetizar para Vivir), que colabora con College of William & Mary y cuyo personal, en su mayor parte, trabaja de forma desinteresada. Los vecinos de la zona de Williamsburg ofrecen su tiempo para encontrarse con aquellos nuevos residentes que desean aprender inglés.

Lisseth entusiasmada aprovechó esta oportunidad. Una vez a la semana asistía a clases de dos horas con algunos de sus colegas de trabajo. Con el deseo de ir progresando cuanto antes también se matriculó en las clases que se ofrecen después del trabajo. En septiembre de 2011 aprobó su examen de ciudadanía y un mes después juró como ciudadana estadounidense.

Ahora Lisseth puede ayudar a los empleados que no comprenden tanto inglés como ella. Aunque aún no sabe si podría convertirse en profesora, anima a otros a continuar esforzándose por aprender. Puede aconsejar a aquellos que se debaten en la lucha por aprender inglés. “Es duro, pero si yo pude, tú podrás” les recalca.

Nos enorgullece ofrecer ayuda a estos inmigrantes esforzados, y ellos se han convertido en parte de nuestra familia de La Tienda. Sin embargo estamos seguros de que el mérito reside en ellos por su valentía y determinación en iniciar una nueva vida y por su compromiso por aprender el idioma y una nueva forma de vida. De la misma manera que los inmigrantes españoles, los de ahora y los de generaciones anteriores, ellos buscan una vida mejor para sus familias a la vez que albergan gran aprecio por la cultura y tradiciones de su país de origen.

Su amigo,

Don

Through La Tienda, my family and I seek to generate the same trust that was typically earned in simpler times – a time when people bought from the neighbors they knew. Of course you are not able to be personal friends with the Manchego cheese artisan in La Mancha, but we are able to know Fernando in your stead!

We continue to befriend the hard working Spanish artisans who produce the high quality food you seek for your table. Our mission is for you to trust our judgment and feel assured that the traditional person-to-person way of doing business is still possible, ironically, with the help of the Internet.

The relationship I am referring to is what I experienced as a child. I would go with my mother to the butcher shop where Mr. Higgins would give her the best meat that he had on hand – even during the wartime rationing. They had known each other for many years, and over that period of time a sense of trust built up between them.

During the spring and summer during my high school days, I would stop by a local farm truck to pick up freshly harvested produce. The owner, Mr. Hittinger, knew me well, as his daughter and I were in the same class in school. That same trust with Mr. Higgins was there too, because we had lived in the same community for most of our lifetimes. I knew that the vegetables and fruit from Mr. Hittinger’s vegetable stand and greenhouse would always be safe and healthy.

Of course, the variety of produce was limited to the seasonal vegetables and fruits that grew in the region: asparagus in April, strawberries in June and sweet corn in August. There were no raspberries from Chile in November or mangoes from Mexico in January and I did not expect them.

What I have just described happened in my lifetime; but two or three hundred years ago the produce you ate most likely was grown within a few miles of your dwelling, and if you did not grow it yourself, you surely knew all about the person who did. The idea of eating food that was grown anonymously thousands of miles away was beyond the consumer’s comprehension.
Today it is quite different.  We rely on government agencies to monitor our food supply and the global food chain is governed by logistics rather than products: uniform spherical tomatoes or California peaches supplied when we can pick them off the trees in Virginia.

The bond of trust between the provider and the consumer hardly exists, except in the nascent buy local/farmers market movement.  It goes without saying that the kind of arrangement provided by well meaning government bureaucracy, or the less benign marketplace controlled by agribusiness, does not generate the same level of trust people formed with one another over the years.

In a couple of days, my wife Ruth and I will be spending three weeks traveling hundreds of kilometers throughout Spain, from Santiago to Sevilla. We will be meeting and sometimes dining with the families of artisans who provide La Tienda food for your table. Our son Tim has returned from an extensive visit with several of our artisan jamón producers.  There is no substitute for being on the scene and sitting down for a meal together.

We are especially interested in the classic bread from Galicia, which has been greeted with such enthusiasm within the La Tienda community. Ruth and I look forward to getting to know these bakers better, and perhaps along the way discovering another classic Spanish bread or two for you to enjoy.

The first place we will visit, just an hour from Santiago de Compostela, is Lugo, a medieval city encircled by 1,800 year old Roman walls. On the outskirts of the town is the bakery where we will meet the people who make the great Galician breads and rolls that so many of us enjoy.

Next we are taking a slight detour to the small Celtic town of San Cristóbal de Cea, whose local bakers use a 13th century recipe to make what they proclaim to be the best bread in the world.  And maybe it is! By chance about twenty years ago, Ruth and I pulled into this village with a van full of hungry kids to feed (“I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m thirsty”), and were amazed at the quality of the bread. We never forgot it, and now we have found it again! Whether we can transport the crusty airy loaves to America is another challenge.

Later in the trip we will visit the small town of Alfacar, near Granada, where a legendary bread is baked following a recipe from Moorish times. This ancient bread has been highly coveted in all of Andalucía for hundreds of years. It will be quite different from the airy, crusty bread of Galicia, perhaps with an olive oil base. I will let you know what we discover.

I won’t burden you with every detail, except to mention that we will be visiting the baker of our Magdalenas muffins, looking for a potentially classic bread from Granada and finally we will be greeted by the people of the ancient town of Antequera whose town bakery provides us with traditional molletes rolls.

We find it important to participate in the spiritual core of Spain as well, so we will start our journey at Santiago de Compostela and will join with the Spanish people who observe Semana Santa.  After attending the celebration of Domingo de Ramos (Palm Sunday) in the magnificent cathedral of Toledo, we will drive south to Andalucía.  In Córdoba, Ruth and I will spend much of the day with the Rodríguez family. Their eldest son, Alejandro, was a guest in our home in Williamsburg for a few weeks and he will be part of one of the brotherhoods whose men carry heavy pasos in the Semana Santa processions. His father, Abel, is an old friend of ours whose company supplies us with the amazing fresh frozen Ibérico de Bellota chops and steaks.

We will spend the rest of the week in Priego de Córdoba enjoying the solemn Semana Santa observances. Priego is a beautiful white town perched on a cliff, surrounded by olive groves as far as the eye can see. There we will get together with Fermín and Aixa Rodríguez and taste their latest pressing of Señorío de Vizcántar extra virgin olive oil which he personally bottles for us. At the edge of town we will meet Antonio and his wife Maria who hand cook our San Nicasio potato chips in extra virgin olive oil.

In addition to visiting our friends in their family enterprises, we keep an eye on the Spanish food scene in general so as to anticipate possible problems. For example, a few years ago low quality Iranian saffron was destroying the traditional market for the famous saffron of La Mancha. Most people would not know how to discern false saffron from the real thing.  But we moved quickly to identify María Angeles and Juan Antonio, who had a sterling reputation for honesty and diligence, and shifted all our saffron orders to them.

Quality control is a special consideration when it comes to extra virgin olive oil. Some of you may have read the marvelous new book called Extra Virginity which among other things outlines the extensive treachery and deceit in the industry.  The author asserts that at least 60% of supermarket olive oil is adulterated. It can be hard to identify the tainted olive oil, so we solve that problem by relying on individual producers of integrity.

We have visited Rosa and Francisco in their Castillo (de Canena). Fermín and Aixa are like family with their cute little Sophia, and we count Hans and Daida de Roos, who live in their 12th century finca, Can Solivera, as dear friends, and paragons of integrity. Hans is justifiably proud that their oil has been chosen by the chef of one of the top restaurants in Spain, El Celler de Can Roca in Girona.

We want to reassure you that when we say we offer you the best of Spain, it is not an empty slogan. And there is always room for improvement. We are now encouraging producers in Spain to produce certified humane jamones, so that the animals will be valued as living creatures as they always were before the advent of industrial food production.

My very best to you and your loved ones (and your local farmer).

Don

Mi familia y yo ponemos gran empeño en ofrecer la misma confianza y garantía de otros tiempos—tiempos en los que la gente adquiría sus productos de conocidos de toda la vida. Obviamente ustedes no puede convertirse en amigos personales de nuestro maestro quesero de La Mancha, pero nosotros nos acercamos a Fernando en su lugar.

Continuamos creando lazos de amistad con los laboriosos artesanos españoles productores de los alimentos de calidad que buscan para su mesa. Espero que poco a poco nuestra selección de productos gane su confianza y les confirme que la forma tradicional de hacer negocios de persona a persona es aún posible—especialmente gracias a internet.

El tipo de relación personal a la que me refiero es la que yo viví de niño. Yo iba con mi madre a la carnicería en la que el Sr. Higgins le ofrecía su mejor carne—incluso en los años de racionamiento de guerra. Se conocían desde hacía muchos años y la confianza fue creciendo entre ellos a lo largo del tiempo.

En primavera y verano en mis días de instituto solía hacer una parada en una granja vecina para recoger frutas y verduras frescas. El propietario, el Sr. Hittinger, me conocía bien ya que su hija estaba en clase conmigo. Existía la misma confianza que con el Sr. Higgins, puesto que habíamos vivido en la misma comunidad la mayor parte de nuestra vida. Yo contaba con que las frutas y verduras de la tienda del Sr. Hittinger ofrecieran siempre todas las garantías.

Por supuesto la variedad de productos se limitaba a verduras del tiempo y a las frutas que se cultivaban en la zona: espárragos en abril, fresas en junio, maíz dulce en agosto—No había frambuesas de Chile en noviembre o mangos mejicanos en enero—tampoco yo los buscaba.

En el transcurso de mi vida las cosas fueron como las he descrito; pero dos o trescientos años atrás los productos que se consumían se cultivaban probablemente a unos pocos kilómetros de casa y si no los cultivaba usted en su huerto de seguro conocía bien al que lo había hecho. La idea de consumir alimentos cultivados de forma anónima a miles de kilómetros de distancia era entonces incomprensible para el consumidor.

Hoy en día las cosas son bien diferentes. Dependemos de administraciones estatales que vigilan nuestros suministros alimentarios. Y la cadena global de alimentos está dirigida por la logística en vez de por los productos: tomates uniformemente esféricos, o melocotones procedentes de California cuando podemos recogerlos de los árboles aquí en Virginia.

Los lazos de confianza entre el productor y el consumidor difícilmente existen, excepto en las nacientes iniciativas de venta de productos de la huerta de la zona. Huelga decir que el tipo de políticas establecidas por una bienintencionada burocracia estatal o de las menos benignas del mercado controlado por empresas agrícolas no generan el mismo nivel de confianza del que se disfrutaba hace años.

En un par de días mi esposa Ruth y yo iniciaremos un nuevo viaje de cientos de kilómetros por España durante tres semanas- desde Santiago hasta Sevilla encontrándonos y almorzando a veces con las familias artesanas que surten a La Tienda de alimentos para su mesa. Nuestro hijo Tim acaba de regresar de una larga visita a varios productores artesanos de jamón. No hay nada como sentarse a la mesa y hablar con ellos en persona.

Tenemos especial interés en el pan tradicional gallego que ha sido recibido con tanto entusiasmo por la comunidad de La Tienda. Ruth y yo estamos ansiosos de conocer mejor a estos artesanos del pan, y quizás de camino descubrir uno o dos tipos más de pan tradicional español para que Uds. los disfruten en casa.

El primer lugar que visitaremos está a una hora de Santiago de Compostela, Lugo, una ciudad medieval rodeada por una muralla romana con 1.800 años de historia. En las afueras de la ciudad se halla el horno en el que nos encontraremos con los artesanos del fantástico pan y bollos gallegos que a tantos nos hacen disfrutar.

Seguidamente nos desviaremos un poco para llegar al pequeño pueblo celta de San Cristóbal de Cea, cuyos artesanos panaderos utilizan una receta del siglo XIII para elaborar lo que ellos proclaman ser el mejor pan del mundo. ¡Y quizás lo sea! Por casualidad hace unos veinte años Ruth y yo nos paramos en este pueblo con nuestros hijos que se quejaban “estoy cansado, tengo hambre, tengo sed” y nos sorprendió la calidad de su producto. Nunca olvidamos ese pan, y ahora ¡de nuevo lo hemos encontrado! (Que podamos transportar las crujientes hogazas a América es un reto añadido).

Más adelante en nuestro viaje visitaremos Alfacar, un pequeño pueblo cerca de Granada en donde se elabora un legendario pan hecho siguiendo una receta de la época musulmana. Esta antigua receta lleva siglos de reconocimiento en Andalucía. Es bastante distinto al crujiente pan gallego, quizás con una base de aceite de oliva—ya les haré saber mis descubrimientos.

No les quiero cansar con todos los detalles, excepto mencionar que visitaremos al artesano de nuestras magdalenas en busca de un pan clásico de Granada y finalmente seremos recibidos en Antequera cuya panadería central nos abastece de los tradicionales molletes de pan.

Creemos en la importancia también de participar en la espiritualidad española, así que iniciaremos nuestro periplo en Santiago de Compostela y nos uniremos al pueblo español que conmemora la Semana Santa. Tras asistir a la celebración del Domingo de Ramos en la magnífica catedral de Toledo, iremos a Andalucía. En Córdoba Ruth y yo pasaremos gran parte del día con la familia Rodríguez. Su hijo mayor, Alejandro, vino invitado a casa en Wiliamsburg unas cuantas semanas y participará en una de las hermandades que procesionan con sus grandes pasos de Semana Santa. Su padre, Abel, es un viejo amigo cuya empresa nos abastece de chuletones y chuletas ibéricas de bellota congeladas.

Pasaremos el resto de la semana en Priego de Córdoba para disfrutar de la solemne Semana Santa. Priego es un bello pueblo blanco en lo alto de un precipicio rodeado de olivares que se pierden en el horizonte. Allí nos reuniremos con Fermín y Aixa Rodríguez y saborearemos su último prensado de aceite de oliva virgen Señorío de Vizcántar que Fermín envasa personalmente para nosotros. A las afueras del pueblo también nos encontraremos con Antonio y su esposa, María, que elaboran a mano y con aceite de oliva virgen nuestras patatas fritas de San Nicasio.

Además de estas visitas a las empresas familiares de nuestros amigos, siempre mantenemos la atención puesta en aspectos alimentarios en general para prever posibles problemas. Por ejemplo, hace unos años el azafrán iraní de baja calidad amenazaba con destruir el mercado tradicional del reconocido azafrán de La Mancha. La mayoría de las personas no sabrían distinguir entre el falso azafrán y el auténtico. Sin embargo nosotros nos apresuramos hasta hallar a María Ángeles y Juan Antonio de incuestionable reputación, honradez y diligencia y dirigimos todos nuestros pedidos de azafrán hacia ellos.

El control de la calidad es una consideración especial cuando se trata de aceite de oliva virgen. Algunos de Uds. puede que hayan leído un maravilloso nuevo libro llamado Extra Virginity que entre otras cosas enumera los ingentes abusos y engaños en la industria. El autor confirma que al menos un 60% de los aceites de oliva de los supermercados se hallan adulterados. Puede resultar difícil identificar el aceite de oliva afectado, así pues resolvimos el problema confiando en productores autónomos de calidad.

Hemos visitado a Rosa y Francisco en su Castillo de Canena. Fermín y Aixa y su pequeña Sofía son como de la familia y contamos con Hans y Daida de Roos, de la finca Can Solivera, entre nuestros queridos amigos y como paradigma de integridad. (Hans se enorgullece con motivo de que su aceite haya sido elegido por el chef de uno de los mejores restaurantes de España: El Celler de Can Roca de Gerona).

Nuestro compromiso es que cuando decimos que ofrecemos lo mejor de España no se trate de una frase comercial vacía. Sin embargo siempre queda sitio para la superación. Estamos ahora animando a los productores españoles a elaborar jamones ecológicos certificados, para que a los animales se les valore como criaturas vivas como antes lo fueran antes del advenimiento de la alimentación industrial.

Con mis mejores deseos para Uds. y los suyos (y para los labradores de su zona).

Don

I just read an article in the paper this morning that illustrates the deep roots of the Spanish culture, which has enabled them both to endure and to enjoy the turns of life. Their fortitude comes from a deep sense of family and community, which seems to be absorbed into the core of their being.

Just in my lifetime, the Spanish family has experienced a ruinous civil war followed by years of famine. Then they enjoyed a fabulous social rebirth to become the European leader in the arts, sports and cuisine. Yet now Spaniards are facing a severe economic crisis with nearly half of the young Spaniards under 25 without a job. But the feeling in the streets is neither violent nor depressed. There are remnants of indignados standing in Madrid’s Puerta del Sol, who are chatting with passers-by. They are understandably indignant, but they are not antisocial.

Because they are resilient, sustained by their family and their neighbors, Spaniards are prepared to enjoy good fortune as well. I want to share with you a vignette that illustrates the depth of their healthy community feeling — in good times as well as hard times.

El Gordo is the gigantic national lottery, which consumes much of Spain’s attention during the winter months, as people dream of acquiring an immense, life-changing amount of money. What is unusual about the Spanish lottery however, is that it is designed so that there are several winners, not just one winner-take-all, which is the usual American structure of any kind of a contest. In 2012, El Gordo had 138 winners for the top prize: the identical winning number was printed many times! In addition, it is structured so that if you are low on cash you can buy portions of one ticket — it becomes sort of a communal ticket, which you share with your neighbors.

It is the custom of the people in this tiny village in the Pyrennes to buy their tickets from a woman who deposits the small profit from the sales in a fund to buy decorations for the town feria. This year the lottery lady canvassed the town as she always does, making sure that everyone had the opportunity to participate. It was a little more of a difficult sell this year because each ticket costs $26 and this year the region was experiencing a severe drought in addition to the national economic crisis.

One older woman really wanted to buy a ticket, as she has customarily done each year, but she was extremely short of cash. She asked the lottery lady to set a ticket aside for her, and promised to bring the money later when she could. On the edge of town lived a Greek filmmaker, who for whatever reason, perhaps he was overlooked, did not participate in the lottery at all.

As you might imagine, the weeks leading up to the drawing were filled with anticipation. The bounty is so huge that people fantasize that all their problems will be solved. The 2012 drawing was almost that true, since an amazing $950 million — all the first prize tickets — were rained down in this tiny anonymous village of dirt farmers and unemployed construction workers.

How did it turn out for the lady who was not able to raise enough money to buy the ticket she had reserved? As you might imagine, she felt a little sheepish and actually sent over her young son to see whether the ticket had been reserved for her, despite her inability to pay for it in time. The neighbor-lady in charge of the lottery welcomed the little boy and said, “Of course your mother has her share of the lottery. I saved the ticket for her anyway.”

The man on the edge of the town who did not get to purchase a ticket took the turn of events philosophically. He said that a neighbor called him up right after the news came out over the television and offered him a fair price for some spare property he had been trying to sell. So he felt he had gained from the lottery as well. Soon after he accepted his neighbor’s offer he got another phone call in which he was offered a higher price. But he took the first lower offer, being true to his word. He wouldn’t do otherwise he said, “After all, we live in this town together.”

One farmer sitting in the town’s only café was quoted as saying: “This money means that now we can breathe. And the best part is that it isn’t just me. Everybody won.” It is this age old interconnectedness which sustains the Spanish family and the Spanish nation. On this level, individual good fortune is trumped by a feeling of brotherhood. They are their brother’s keeper.

Su amigo,

Don

Acabo de leer esta mañana un artículo en el periódico sobre las profundas raíces de la cultura española que han permitido a este pueblo disfrutar tanto como soportar los avatares de su historia. Su fortaleza proviene de un hondo sentido de la familia y del grupo que parece instilado en lo más profundo de su ser.

Tan solo a lo largo de una generación, la familia española ha experimentado una ruinosa guerra civil seguida de años de hambruna. Más tarde disfrutaron de un fabuloso renacimiento social que les convirtió en líderes en el mundo del arte, los deportes y la cocina a nivel europeo. Sin embargo en el momento actual los españoles se enfrentan a una severa crisis económica con la mitad de la población juvenil por debajo de los 25 años en el desempleo. Pero el sentimiento en la calle no es ni de violencia ni de depresión. Quedan aún algunos indignados acampando en La Puerta del Sol de Madrid que entablan conversación con los viandantes. Están comprensiblemente indignados, pero no están en contra de la sociedad.

Por su constancia, apoyados por su familia y sus vecinos, los españoles están preparados para gozar la buena fortuna de la misma manera. Deseo compartir con Uds. una pequeña historia que ilustra la profundidad de su sano sentido de grupo, tanto en los buenos como en los malos momentos.

El Gordo es la gigantesca lotería nacional que atrae gran parte de la atención pública en España durante los meses de invierno. En esos meses la gente sueña con la posibilidad de ganar una inmensa cantidad de dinero que cambiaría sus vidas. Lo que distingue a la Lotería Nacional sin embargo es que está diseñada para que haya múltiples ganadores, no uno solo que se lleve todo el premio, como la estructura típica de cualquier concurso americano. En 2012 El Gordo premió a 138 ganadores del Primer Premio; ¡un idéntico número ganador se imprime en múltiples boletos! Además, La Lotería está concebida de manera que si se anda escaso de efectivo se pueda comprar participaciones de un billete; se convierte en un billete comunal, compartido con los demás.

Es costumbre de los habitantes de un pequeño pueblo de los Pirineos comprar los boletos a una señora que invierte la escasa ganancia de sus ventas en un fondo para la adquisición de decoraciones para la fiesta del pueblo. Este pasado año la señora hizo un sondeo por el pueblo, como ya venía haciendo en otras ocasiones, para asegurarse de que todos tendrían la posibilidad de participar. Esta vez la venta fue algo más difícil puesto que cada décimo cuesta 26$ y la región estaba atravesando una severa sequía a parte de sufrir una crisis económica de ámbito nacional.

Una señora de edad, que quería participar comprando su participación como todos los años, carecía del dinero para hacerlo. Le pidió a la lotera que le apartara un décimo y le prometió pagarle en cuanto pudiera. A la salida del pueblo vivía un director de cine griego, a quien por alguna razón no se le tuvo en cuenta y no participó con ellos en el sorteo.

Como se podrán imaginar, la expectación las semanas anteriores al sorteo era grande. El premio es tan extraordinario que la gente sueña con que resolvería todos sus problemas. En este año, 2012, su sueño se materializó, puesto que el pequeño y desconocido pueblo de labradores y trabajadores de la construcción en el desempleo fue agraciado con $950 millones, el Primer Premio íntegro.

¿Qué ocurrió con la señora que no tenía suficiente dinero para pagar su participación en el número que había reservado? Como pueden imaginarse, se sintió algo acobardada y mandó en su lugar a su hijo para ver si le seguían apartando su décimo a pesar de la imposibilidad de abonarlo a tiempo. Su vecina la lotera recibió al muchacho y le dijo: “Por supuesto que contamos con la participación de tu madre. Se la tengo reservada de todos modos.”

El director de cine griego que no llegó a comprar su décimo se lo tomó con filosofía. Contó que un vecino le llamó justo después de que el premio fuera anunciado en televisión para hacerle una buena oferta por un terreno que estaba intentando vender. Así sintió que él también había salido ganando con el sorteo. Algo más tarde, tras aceptar la oferta, recibió una segunda llamada en la que le ofrecieron una mayor cantidad de dinero, pero mantuvo su palabra y se quedó con la primera oferta. De otra manera no lo habría hecho, cuenta. “Después de todo, vivimos en el pueblo todos juntos.”

Un labrador sentado en el único bar del pueblo comentó. “Este dinero significa que ahora podremos tomarnos un respiro. Y lo mejor es que no soy sólo yo. Todos hemos ganado.” Es esta conexión entre la gente la que sostiene a la familia española y a la nación. De esta forma, la buena fortuna de un individuo se convierte en algo más grande, en compenetración con los otros. Son guardianes de sus hermanos.

Su amigo,

Don

I have great faith in the resilience of the Spanish people. As I think of the major economic crisis my Spanish friends are facing today as a nation, I am reminded of one of my favorite essays: a story of perseverance and triumph despite challenging times.

I would like to share the remarkable story of my friends Pedro and Isabella Díaz, a devoted couple whom I met in Spain in 1975. Pedro is no longer with us, he died in 2006, but the life he lived with his beloved Isabella lives beyond him. Pedro and Isabella are the embodiment of the best of traditional Spain, and an example of the New Spain that has risen out of the ashes of the Civil War. Their story reflects ensuing decades of sacrifice that eventually gave birth to the stronger and healthier Spain we know today.

Our families formed a close bond that grew over the past thirty years or so. We, as parents, have grown old together – and enjoy each other’s children and grandchildren. My wife Ruth and I feel especially close to one of their daughters, Olga, since for a few months she lived with us in Virginia, some twenty years ago. Later, I had the privilege of solemnizing her marriage in a medieval church in the sherry town of Jerez de la Frontera.

Pedro was the son of a shoemaker in the ancient Atlantic seaport of Cádiz – one of my favorite communities in Spain. Born in 1934, two years before the beginning of bitter Civil War, which tore the fabric of the nation, and then plunged the mourning survivors into years of famine. The 1940′s and 1950′s were a time of profound deprivation for the people of Spain as the shattered nation tried to piece together a cohesive life, altogether isolated by her European neighbors. Hunger stalked the land for many years. Theirs was a struggle for survival.

In 1952, when Pedro was 18 years old, he left home to join the Spanish navy, La Armada Española, and lived the life of a sailor. Like many young men his age throughout the world, he went to sea in order to find his place in life. Providentially, as a young, able-bodied seaman, he was chosen to be a member of the crew that was returning a ship to the Americans. After crossing the Atlantic to New York, the ship sailed to its new home port in San Diego.

There Pedro contracted a serious lung condition, which landed him in the Balboa Naval Hospital for several months. He was all alone in a strange country. His Spanish shipmates had to leave him behind because he was too ill to travel. But a warm and generous woman named Robin who was a volunteer nurse befriended Pedro and helped him to learn English while he was convalescing.

Pedro was an eager learner, so the student and the teacher became fast friends; he became in many ways her adopted son. Recognizing what a bright and earnest young man he was, Robin gave him some money with the provision that he return to Spain and go to school once he had recovered.

Pedro loved learning. Completing schooling in Spain, he then went on his own to Oxford for a year to perfect his English. He had no money, except for a small gift from Robin, and lived by his wits in order to complete his studies. He maintained a correspondence with his benefactor back in California for the rest of Robin’s life.
After his studies in England, he returned to Andalucía briefly, only to leave for France to learn the French language. This time he was totally on his own. Finally, he returned to his family in Cádiz, several years older and wiser. There he intended to settle down to work with his father as a shoemaker. But he was always open to opportunities.

He heard a rumor that the Americans were going to establish a large naval base near the fishing village of Rota, in conjunction with the Spanish navy. So he rode a local bus for an hour or two to Rota – he was there to meet the US Navy.

The naval officers welcomed him warmly because he was one of the very few Spaniards who could speak any English. That very day the Americans put him to work to teach English to his countrymen. From that time on until he retired 40 years later Pedro was at the Naval Base teaching Spanish sailors how to speak English and American sailors how to speak Spanish!

Rota was a little far to commute from his family in Cádiz, so he looked for a room in the neighboring town of Jerez de la Frontera. A carpenter and his family living over their shop rented a room to this ingenious young man. Soon he was included at the family table, where he came to know their daughter named Isabella Buzón. At first, she was somewhat skeptical of Pedro, he was a bit too exotic for her – he dressed modishly and was not like “the boy next door.” Nevertheless, Pedro had dancing brown eyes and a warm heart. They fell in love and within nine months, they were married!

The Díaz family still resides in Jerez de la Frontera, as they always have. There Pedro and Isabella raised three bright daughters: Inmaculada, Olga, and Eva. Inma is married to a Spaniard from her hometown and has a traditional Spanish family. Olga and Eva married Americans. Both sisters are teachers, following in the footsteps of their father. In fact, Olga has replaced Pedro in the classroom on the Naval Base. Just as her father translated letters for me in years past, now Olga translates my updates!

When I first came to Rota with my young family, Pedro was an invaluable partner, both personally when he helped us get settled in the Spanish culture; and professionally helping me to locate a site for a retreat ministry I had designed called CREDO / Esperanza. Because of his deep faith and close ties to his church, he opened many doors for me. You can read about this in my [link1]Christmas 2006 Flavors[/link1].

Pedro opened many doors for others as well. As he rose to become the intercultural affairs coordinator for the Commanding Officer, he worked assiduously to bring Americans and local Spaniards together so that they could work in harmony.

After years of wandering as a young man, Pedro found a spiritual anchor in his beloved Isabella who was always by his side. She is a pious woman, practicing her traditional age-old faith. With members of her ladies group at the parish she has attended many pilgrimages, including the famous El Rocío, across the Guadalquivir River in the province of Huelva. Isabella remains a spiritual anchor today. As a mother and grandmother, she continues to lend her loving and faithful support to her extended family.

Old Spain and new: steeped in tradition, yet always eager to integrate the changing times. That is the story of the shoemaker’s son and the carpenter’s daughter. To my mind, people such as this devoted couple are the bedrock of Spain and an inspiration to all of us.

My best to you and to those whom you love,

Don