Gooooooooaaaaaalllllll!!!!!!!!!

Spain brings home the gold for the first time in history

Well, living in Spain during the World Cup is important, despite the fact that I came over here without the slightest clue that the World Cup was happening, and without really knowing what it is. As I now know, and most of your reading this already know, it's basically the Olympics of soccer. I think.

Spaniards here get really really really excited about soccer. It's Spain's main sport, without a doubt. Americans have football, basketball, and baseball, and of course golf, tennis, soccer, hockey, etc. But for Spaniards, it doesn't get any better than soccer.

It's like the rainbow threw up red and yellow everywhere

When I watch a soccer game with my boyfriend and his friends, as soon as I step into the room my face gets painted with the colors of the Spanish flag (red and yellow) and loud, obnoxious noise-making balloons are thrust into my hands. The environment is pretty similar to what one experiences at an American sport event. Everyone will go to a bar to see the game or to someone's house, pass around the potato chips and beer, and chaos ensues.

Soccer isn't my favorite sport, I've always been more of a basketball fan because, uh, points are actually scored, but for me, at least half the entertainment of watching a soccer game is watching the Spaniards watch the soccer game: yelling profanities at the players of the opposing teams, jumping up and down and shrieking as loud as their vocal chords will allow them when Spain scores, muttering "ooooh-eeeeee" when the opposing team almost scores a goal, and falling to their knees 3 inches in front of the television screen when Spain is attempting to score a goal and pleading, "For your mother!!! Get it in the goal for your mother!!!" I mean, you can't buy live entertainment like that.


In America, many people fly the American flag on their houses and apartments, and no one thinks twice about it. In Spain, if you spot a Spanish flag waving outside a place of residence, you can count on that residence being big Franco (former dictator of Spain from 1939 - 1975) supporters, a.k.a., possibly fascist. However, during the World Cup, all bets are off; everyone waves their flag proudly so that there is no doubt which soccer team they are supporting.

World Cup season: the one time every four years when waving the Spanish flag outside your home doesn't scream "I love fascism!"

I was in a small village in Spain when Spain won the World Cup. This was a HUGE moment for Spain. Soccer started doing the World Cup in 1930, and it takes place every four years, and Spain has never won. Brazil, Germany, and Argentina have won most of the recent World Cups.

Red and yellow everywhere

So, needless to say, Spain partied long and hard to celebrate the event. It was amazing, a unique experience that I will probably never have again. I'm not Spanish, but I felt Spanish that night! The people were so united and happy, it's amazing how a sport can bring a nation together. Cars were driving in the street, honking like there is no tomorrow, people screaming and waving their Spanish flags, and of course, the obnoxious-beyond-belief vuvuzelas, the South African plastic blow horn. It's a great way to make noise, but then again, it's also a great way to lose your hearing at a young age.

I'm wearing earplugs the next time Spain wins the World Cup in South Africa

My First Experience with Civil Disobedience...Kind Of

I love Spain, I truly do, but the lack of food that I want to eat is starting to become an issue.

My boyfriend and I decided to go to lunch one day at a bar that serves a "menú del día" for 3 Euros. This means that there are 3 plates selected for you, one after another, and you eat what you get and pay 3 Euros. Each day the food that is served is different; the day we went, the first plate was salad, the second pork, and the third, pudding. I had a feeling that this lunch was not going to go as smoothly as one might hope.

You can't beat these prices with a stick

We arrive to the restaurant and I see that pork is the middle plate that is offered as part of the meal, and of course I cannot eat this, what with the whole vegetarianism thing. The salad looks edible, so I ask the bartender if I can just have the salad for half the price. Nope. I can pay the full 3 Euros for a wilted salad, so I decide it's not worth it. My boyfriend orders all 3 plates and I decide just to sit with him at the restaurant, as I'm not very hungry anyway. The bartender sends us to the back of the bar, where there are tables with just one place mat, and one chair. My boyfriend looks puzzled and pulls up a chair for me. I am mid-sit when I hear the bartender angrily state that I cannot sit down if I am not ordering anything. My boyfriend suggests that I order a drink, and the bartender replies that it will cost 3 Euros, which in Granada, is an absurd price for a glass of Coke.

We leave. Angrily. This has never happened to me before, and this is in no way representative of Spanish bars, or bars in Granada. This bar was...different. The owner of this bar wanted to make sure that every chair in his bar was filled by a person who paid 3 Euros for something, even if it isn't the 3 course meal. Many manual labor workers go to bars like that for lunch. It's a good, quick, cheap lunch break, and it fills their stomachs. Well, I'm not a bricklayer, and I don't eat like one, so I guess that it's not the best locale for me to search for nourishment.

Lesson learned! In English we have the saying, "You get what you pay for." I've now learned that this sometimes also applies to the service you receive.