The party

Left to right: Susan from Indiana, me, Elizabeth, Carla, Edgar, and (I´ve got to find out her name!) all from Spain

On Friday night, the Spanish church planned a traditional Spanish fiesta for us Americans. We drove to a big, old house in the country up the side of the mountain. I didn´t get the opportunity to take photos along the way, but the view of Alcoy and the surrounding area is just breath-taking! Our families had told us to dress up in our best clothes, and Susanna had given me a wrapped present that I wasn´t to open until I got in Carla´s car. Actually, the host families were invited but Susanna had to take her daughter to the airport that night and couldn´t go with me. The gift was a flower hair clip, a headband, and clip-on earrings (She even noticed that my ears aren´t pierced). When we got there, everyone had flowers in their hair, and many were wearing the traditional Spanish costumes.

They took us inside the house to an open air courtyard where there were tables of food set up like appetizers and in the center of the room, a large ham from which a man in costume was carving pieces and basically forcing them into our hands. I wasn´t crazy about the ham--as Nick described it, it looked like uncooked bacon, though I´m sure it had been cooked in some way or other. I wondered aloud what part of the pig it was, and Elizabeth said I probably didn´t want to know. We found out later it was the back or top of the pig. (There´s probably a term, but I don´t know it in Spanish or English.) Carla had told us we would be eating several courses until after midnight, so I didn´t want to spoil my meal with too many appetizers, so I tried a bit of most things but didn´t eat much.

There was goat cheese (pretty good), potato chips, nuts, olives. You can see the ham on the left side of the photo just behind the beer bottle. At the bottom of the photo on a blue plate, you can see the Spanish tortilla, which is not anything like what I expected. It´s thick and made from eggs, potatoes, and I´m not sure what else. Reminded me of an omelet. The Spanish are very concerned about presentation, and you can see that the tables were laid out prettily.

They put on music--a variety from Spanish pop to Spanish traditional to American pop. Elizabeth wondered whether the dancing would be before or after the meal, but that question was answered when everyone began to dance right away. Occasionally a mariachi band would come in and interrupt the DJ with a traditional song--sometimes from Spain, sometimes from Mexico. Some of the ladies attempted to teach us to dance. This video is of Elizabeth learning a dance.

We danced and danced until my feet hurt. Eventually they brought around a basket with sliced bread and a tub of something like butter, except they told us it was whipped olive oil. I forget what it was called, but it was really good. I only ate half a slice of bread because I didn´t want to spoil my meal. Later they brought around a plate with grilled pork chops--different shape but same taste and texture. Apparently taking something off the plate you are offered isn´t really optional if you´re an American because they enjoy watching us experience their food. The man with the ham forced seconds on me even though I told him that I had already tried it, thank you very much. He said in Spanish, "Oh, you´ve already tried it?" I said "Yes, thank you," to which his response was, "Okay, try some more!" I felt like the guy in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. So I had some more. Still hadn´t improved. Around midnight I was kind of hungry and my feet hurt, so I asked someone when we would be having supper. "Didn´t you get any meat?" was the response. Apparently we had been having supper on our feet all night long!
Even though this was a church party, there was beer and wine served. Culturally, this is not seen as inappropriate, and not a single person drank in excess or was drunk. I tried both and didn´t really like either. The wine isn´t sweet like I expected, and the beer, well, beer just never has tasted good to me.
That was the night I learned what a famous person my son Luke seems to be from his trip here last year. Since it was the first time I was meeting most of the people from the church, almost every one of them introduced me to the next person with "This is the mother of Luke!" followed by a big smile, a kiss on each cheek and a story about something Luke had done and how much they miss him and wish he had returned. He made quite an impression, and I´m proud of him for continuing to leave a positive reputation everywhere he goes!
Luke´s host brother Edgar is also an impressive young man. As I have watched him working with the children in English camp this past week, I have seen a mature and caring young man of God. He has been one of the main translators between the group of Americans and Spaniards who are working together on this project. His presence is calming and the young people listen to him. During the party I saw someone hugging the wall not wanting to dance (Nick), and I watched as Edgar went over to him, pulled him out to the dance floor and taught him some moves. Edgar carries the party with him, and I can only imagine that he and Luke together were quite a dynamic duo!

This is me with Carla Hanson, our full-time Alcoy missionary and my good friend.