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Published: August 11th 2011
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After stopping in bohemian Barcelona for a few days to check in with one of my favourite cities in Europe, spending time at the beach, revisiting Gaudi's warped masterpieces of architecture and drinking in the Gothic Quarter, it was time to catch a bus to Madrid. Eight hours later I arrived on the brink of suffering from cabin fever, with one saving grace being the book I was determined to finish reading. Next time, I'll get the train and be there in a quarter of the time!
Madrid was the meeting point for the volunteer program I was participating in for the first time, which consists of speaking English to a group of Spaniards in the countryside for eight days. In return, my accommodation, transport and food is all provided for free! It sounded too good to be true when I was first told about it, but knowing people who had done the program in the past convinced me that this was in fact the reality.
The location for the program that my friend and I were signed up for was in La Alberca, a quaint village situated somewhere in the hills between Salamanca and the Portuguese border. As
our bus rounded the village, I could barely believe what my eyes were absorbing. This was a Spanish town unlike any I had visited before, consisting of half-timbered houses adorned with brightly coloured summer flowers hanging from their terraces and windows. With a population that must barely scrape in at a thousand inhabitants, including the outlying farms, it is a quiet place that fills with sightseers on the weekends. I could hardly believe my good fortune at being accepted to participate in a program that was situated in such a beautiful setting.
As soon as I had dumped my backpack in my room, I set off on foot to wander the cobblestone streets that are barely wide enough for a vehicle to slip though. At every turn I seemed to be pulling out my camera to take another photo of this entirely picturesque village. As I wound my way into the main square where the likes of Hemingway enjoyed a beverage, I knew that the eight days of the program would be far too short. Wandering the quiet lanes, I smiled as I observed old men sitting on window sills watching life unfold before their wizened eyes, their tanned
Spanish skin creased from a life filled with smiles and easy laughter. Outside a tavern I noticed a few elderly men gesticualting over some matter I could not discern, but it was a snapshot into a life that I thought had left the west decades ago.
The program itself is largely based around conversation in one hour blocks with each of the Spaniards, so after eight days, strong bonds are formed and some truly profound conversations have taken place. Added to this, there is an abundance of Rioja being consumed, which aids the late night banter no end! In fact, I tended to wake from my siesta each day feeling a little slow and groggy, no doubt a result of the hour and a half spent consuming red wine over lunch. If I'm honest, some of the pre-lunch conversations were also accompanied by either beer or glasses of
tinto de verano (red wine of summer), so I am sure you can appreciate why the five o'clock post-siesta session wasn't always met with absolute enthusiasm. However, by the time we would sit down for dinner at nine o'clock, the palate was well and truly ready for some more Rioja! On
a couple of nights, dinner was merely the precursor to a dance party (where I seemed altogether too prepared to make a fool and a specatcle of myself) or, on the occasion of our final night, taking over the main square by playing drinking games into the morning hours.
For one of my conversation sessions, my partner wanted to attend the midday mass in the town church, which I thought would be a novel experience so I happily went along. (To be fair, it would be a novel experience back home as well, as I think the last time I went to Sunday mass was when my Nanna was babysitting me!) I soon realised that the Catholic faith is in a far healthier state than back home in Australia, as every pew was filled and the walls were lined with people in attendance. Whilst I didn't understand a word, one thing that I really enjoyed was the sensational choir whose voices sailed out from the loft and washed over all of those down on the church floor.
Interestingly, opposite the church is a building that bears the emblem of the Spanish Inquisition. About a hundred years ago when
renovating this building, a filled in room was discovered below the house. When the rubble was cleared, there were two human skeletons still chained to the wall!
Another highlight of visiting this region is having the opportunity to visit a traditional bodega to eat the delectable cured ham that this part of Spain is renowned for producing. Extremely thin slivers are sliced off the leg for you to enjoy, along with your glass of wine and manchego cheese. If I wasn't so hungover at the time, I know that I would have taken much more advantage of this visit; however, I still enjoyed the portions I consumed before slipping off for a late morning siesta...
By the end of the program, it was with great reluctance and an exhausted liver that I boarded the bus back to Madrid. However, I now had a collection of new Spanish friends to keep me company for the return journey and beyond.
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