Adventures In Spain Local Student Explores Customs And Cultures

Editor’s note: Alison Krogel, a Shadle Park junior, won the Young Columbus contest this year, sponsored by The SpokesmanReview and Parade Magazine. Here’s her account of the cross-Atlantic trip that followed.

“Congratulations Alison, you have won the Young Columbus 10-day, all-expense-paid trip to Spain.”

Unbelievable, incomprehensible, surely they don’t mean me. Is there another Alison in the room?

That whole ceremony took place in January and still seems like a dream. For someone who has rarely been out of the Northwest - and never been on a plane - the idea of traveling to Spain did not sink in quickly. It took setting foot in Madrid last month and immersing myself in a world where English seemed non-existent, traffic lights and stop signs became rare and irrelevant, and the number one delicacy had eight tentacles before I finally believed I’d won.

Just like any good tourist, I had done a bit of research before I left Spokane (or Spo-cane, as everyone else in the world pronounces it). I read about El Prado, the world-famous art museum in Madrid with its huge collection of masterpieces by El Greco and Valazquez. I studied photos of the Olympic stadium in Barcelona where the world gathered to celebrate the 1992 Olympic games. I also learned of the cathedrals and city walls in Toledo, Spain’s ancient capital city.

Yet there was not an encyclopedia or tour book that could have prepared me for the experiences I would have with the 99 other kids from around the United States who also won the trip. And I realized the fascinating history, culture and people of Spain can be fully realized only through a personal visit to their beautiful country.

Getting to know you

My first major discovery came before our tour group even landed in Spain.

After seven hours on a plane high above the Atlantic Ocean with teens from all across the country, I came to the conclusion that the United States is an extremely diverse country.

The other teens and I found ourselves continuously surprised at the inaccuracies of each other’s preconceived notions. Take, for instance, the conversation I vividly recall with a boy from Jacksonville, Fla.

With a slow, Southern drawl, he looked at me seriously and asked, “So you’re from Washington, all the way out west! Ya’ll get a lot of rain out there. Is your dad an apple or potato farmer?”

“Neither,” I politely informed him. “Do you have alligators in your back yard?” I asked jokingly.

To my surprise, I learned that not only do gators frequently make backyard appearances, but that people hunt them and eat them.

“Tastes like chicken,” he assured me. He seemed shocked to find out I don’t eat grits for breakfast, that I’d never heard of eating pig’s feet and that we don’t hunt squirrel “out west.” Actually, it was more like “Ya’ll don’t have fried squirrel in ya’all’s restaurants up there?”

Many of the Southern kids found it hard to believe my church didn’t hold four-hour services and that we don’t use tambourines and dance around during worship.

“We have a bell choir on Christmas Eve,” I feebly responded.

I also shocked many of the kids by calling Coke “pop” (duh, it’s soda), by telling them we don’t have day-care centers for teen moms in our high schools and that my school did not sponsor a gay and lesbian club.

Night life

With all that bonding behind us, the fun really began when we arrived in Spain. After a full day of sightseeing, we had the opportunity to explore the town at night on our own. I armed myself with one of my new bilingual friends and set out to meet the people of Spain.

We always felt perfectly safe, even in the largest cities because the crime rates are low. Soon we figured out how Spanish life works: get up late, work for a while, eat lunch and nap for two hours, work a little more, eat dinner, go out and dance and party all night and sleep late the next morning.

Once, when my new friends and I went to a disco, we suddenly found ourselves immersed in popular Spanish music: Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson and, oh, Michael Jackson. I could not believe my ears! It just didn’t stop. “Thriller” hit after “Thriller” hit, could this be for real? I had to find out.

“Tu gustas Michael Jackson?” I politely asked a local girl about my age. “Si! Si! Si!” she replied enthusiastically before bouncing off, careful not to miss a moment of Billie Jean. Unbelievable.

Culinary delights

“I wonder if that dead pig hanging from its feet is for decoration,” I thought to myself as our group entered a restaurant one evening, anxiously awaiting dinner. Little did I know the lovely mother pig was only a foreshadowing of what was to come.

As a special treat, the restaurant had kindly offered to prepare its most succulent barbecue for us. That could only mean one thing - a meal of strange and exotic meat.

I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the worst, while coming to the conclusion that Spain was definitely not the place for vegetarians.

During the next two hours, the equivalent of a small zoo paraded across my plate. Consider this: octopus, calamari (a fancy name for squid), two varieties of pork sausage, goat, rabbit, chicken, eel, a slab of beef and numerous other indistinguishable items. I’ll never forget it.

Learning about learning

One afternoon our group visited Colegio Montfort, a beautiful private school about 45 minutes outside Madrid. The school has about 1,500 students, 500 of whom stay at the school as boarders for the entire year. The students study 10 subjects, including three languages (Spanish, English and French).

The campus includes four tennis courts, two swimming pools, a school of music, five soccer fields, two basketball courts, many computer and technology labs and a zoo.

My personal tour guide, Mariana, lives in Madrid and spoke perfect English, though I asked her to speak in Spanish so I could practice. She told me she didn’t know of a smoking or drinking age in her country. That was obvious, as I observed all the 11-year-olds at recess passing around Marlboros, and thought of the beer vending machines at our hotel.

Maria responded to my incriminating glances at the young cancer-patient prospects by informing me that American food contained way too much fat and that when she visited Maryland she gained 10 pounds (octopus must be low-cal).

I learned that Mariana and her boyfriend go ice skating, to the movies and to the discos for fun. As we chatted and she showed me around her campus, it seemed as if Mariana and I had a lot in common.

Not so different

When I look back on my trip of a lifetime to Spain, I will obviously remember the beautiful cathedrals of Barcelona with all their religious and historical significance and intricate architecture.

The strength and majesty of the deep blue Mediterranean Sea will forever be with me, as will the intriguing city of Toledo with its Arab, Christian and Jewish cultures and rich religious and historical past.

Yet more than all this, I will remember the fascinating stories and traditions of the wonderful people of Spain, as well as the teens from the United States who at first seemed so very different from me.

When we looked past the dietary habits, music and language barriers, it really didn’t matter whether we lived in Texas or Tennessee, Madrid or Michigan, Spain or good ol’ Spokane; we really didn’t have that many differences.

After all, what more do teens need than sun, freedom and an entire country to explore?