Posted: 2 years ago

Essays by RGHF Historian Frank Longoria AN ESSAY BY FRANK LONGORIA Preface: When coming to live in a foreign country, it is best to remember that you are the foreigner. When Frank Longoria came with his family to live in Spain for an extended stay, he consciously did this important mind shift. If you do as he did, you learn much when your opening to experience is filled with the environment. It is like what Joseph Conrad said in Heart of Darkness (when he has his protagonist come to Africa), I don´t like work-no man does- but I like what is in work- the chance to find yourself. Your own reality-for yourself, not for others- what no other man can ever know. Christmas in Spain this short essay by Frank Longoria is recounting the experience of opening the Longoria family to a new adventure, a new experience- what no other man can ever know. But at least, here, we get a vicarious glimpse. Joe Kagle, Peace Historian CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN By Frank Longoria, 28 November 2007 We came across an ocean from Potsdam, N.Y. which is located in upstate New York near the Canadian border to do an important job, to have an unforgettable experience and to open our family to something that would help us grow and flower. Our three years in Madrid, Spain, was that and much more. Mostly, it is still something that is woven into our fabric of living. Come back with us and live one important time, our first Christmas in Spain. My family and I arrived in Madrid on August 1, 1970; we were assigned there by the State University of New York at Potsdam to supervise a Study Abroad Program. Since we were determined to live as Spaniards live, and since we were desirous of a true immersion experience, we immediately settled in El Barrio de Salamanca where we were the only Americans. The next morning, we noticed that sounds, noises, smells, and voices were quite different from what we had experienced before. The pungent smell of café con leche stung our nostrils. People were everywhere! Hundreds of people populated the streets enjoying a stroll and a vigorous, lively conversation. Old friends walked together, hugging each other, stopping from time to time to emphasize a point in their conversation by gesturing and gesticulating in an exaggerated manner. Young girls sauntered about holding hands and joyfully laughing, while old lady friends, dressed in their best suits, carrying beautiful purses, walked arm-in-arm towards the Parque del Retiro. That evening my wife and I were awakened at about 2:00 a.m. by loud clapping. A little while later, we heard a group of young people singing merrily as they walked down the street. It was already 3:00 a.m! We realized then that this was an entirely different country, with different family values, different laws, different customs, and different traditions. The next day we inquired about the loud clapping and the portero (doorman) told us that the loud clapping was a way of summoning the sereno (night-watchman) to come open the main entrance, and that the singing was typical because in Spain people were free to sing and have a good time at any hour of the night. And, to think that Franco was still in power! Having observed these and many other differences during the first few months we were in Spain, we could not help but wonder what it would be like to experience the Christmas Holidays in that country. Soon, that time arrived! Although Christmas is a deeply religious holiday in Spain, there is absolutely nothing wrong with partying and merrymaking. In fact, it is expected! Christmas officially begins on December 8, the feast of the Immaculate Conception. One must remember that the Virgin Mary is the Patron Saint of Spain. We were very fortunate that by December we had made a few Spanish friends. Fernando and Digna were keen observers of Spanish Christmas customs and traditions, and they provided all the guided tours that we could endure. Starting on December 8, we traveled to many aldeas (villages) in search of Christmas activities and performances. In some aldeas people celebrated by watching a ceremonial dance called the dance of the Sixes (Los Seises). Two groups (six dancers in each group) of beautifully attired young boys do a wonderfully elaborate and ceremonial dance, weaving back and forth while they sing villancicos (Religious Christmas Songs). The dance is similar to a minuet, but we heard that its origins date back to the 1400´s and that it is probably of mozarabique influence. It began in the city of Toledo, but now it is traditionally celebrated with great fanfare in Seville, Spain. Of course, after the ceremony people would spill all over the streets eating and drinking whatever was in sight. Everybody was having a good time! Whole families, including young children in strollers paraded down the streets and congregated in the main plaza. Then, in another part of town, where there were fewer houses, people were burning hogueras (bonfires), and jumping over them. According to an old tradition, jumping over bonfires would cure their ills and give them a long life. Soour nights with Fernando and Digna were magical because we were introduced to the most intimate traditions of Spanish culture. Every evening when we returned to Madrid, my wife and I were absolutely exhausted. Fernando, would, invariably, invite us to a local bar to drink some Cava (champagne). At 3:00 in the morning! During the next few weeks, the cadence and rhythm of Christmas starts to pick up. Lights are everywhere; very elaborate pesebres (Nativity Scenes) are set up in all of the churches, schools, homes, and businesses; and the streets are constantly packed with hordes of humanity. People are everywhere; the plazas are full. Everybody seems to know everybody else, although we know that it is not the case. Groups of students stroll along the streets singing villancicos. Groups of La Tuna (university singing groups) are busily going in and out of bars singing songs for the patrons. Seeing-impaired men are out in the streets selling El Gordo, the biggest payday of the lottery in the whole world! Everything builds to a crescendo, the sound of bells from the various cathedrals can be heard all over the city, and the smell of grilled chestnuts permeates the cool night air. The traffic is now horrendous because all the family members who live in other provinces are now back in Madrid to celebrate the Nochebuena. The grandmothers on both sides of the family and their daughters are out at the central market in a buying frenzy in order to be prepared for the big evening. The men and their sons are out in the tascas (bars) drinking wine and having a few tapas, killing time before the main event. The women go home early to prepare the food, and everybody else congregates at home at about 11:00 p.m. to get ready to attend the Misa del Gallo, which starts at 12:00 p.m. After mass, everybody goes home to join in the festivities and to have dinner together. Spaniards adore their children and grandchildren, and the children become the center of attraction before dinner. It takes them about 30 minutes to kiss and hug all of the children on both cheeks, as is the custom. The children are well behaved. I guess children learn from observation. The love and affection that is demonstrated at all times influences the children to behave in the same manner. Mothers usually take care of the discipline except for major infractions. As they grow older, the children tend to become very affectionate. Recently, when we returned to Spain after a long absence, my godson who is now 35 kissed me on both cheeks, although I had not seen him since he was a young child. The table is served by all of the women usually after midnight while the men are drinking wine in an adjacent room or in the small terrace. Laughter is everywhere! Everybody talks at the same time about daily activities. Spaniards entertain themselves by talking constantly and profusely As far as they are concerned, life is to be enjoyed, and they proudly state: Spaniards work in order to live while Germans and Americans live in order to work. Once the table is set, everyone sits at the same table or adjacent tables, and children are included in all of the activities. In fact, children who are 12 years or older are given a very small amount of wine mixed with gaseosa (similar to soda) so that they can feel that they are taking part in the festivities. Dinner is always abundant, and it may include oysters, shrimp, salads of all types, a baked fish, usually bass or halibut, a hearty soup, and roasted lamb and turkey. Everything is cooked at home with the exception of the roasted lamb because most homes do not have an old, traditional wood oven. Deserts consist of turrón, a type of nougat, Rosca de Reyes, a traditional Christmas cake, and all kinds of fruit and cheese. After dinner, everybody exchanges goodwill gifts, and the women prepare the children for bed. Of course, there is always another round of kissing and hugging! The men retire to the living room to drink typical provincial after dinner drinks.. Just about every region in Spain has a special, strong, cheap, drink to offer. By the time the men retire, it is always after 4:00 p.m. The following day is usually spent out in the park or resting after the night of festivities. Christmas does not end in Spain on December 25. It is followed by continuous days of celebration, including the Día de los Santos Inocentes, December 28, when Spanish kids entertain themselves by playing jokes and tricks on each other (similar to April Fools Day), New Year´s Eve when Spaniards congregate at the Puerta del Sol to eat 12 grapes at the end of the year for good luck. Then, on January 5, there is always a huge parade involving Los Reyes Magos. The children are in a state of euphoria because candy and other goodies are strewn all over the streets. That evening, the children go home to fill their shoes with hay and carrots so that the Three Kings have food for their animals. The following morning, the Day of Epiphany, the children wake up to find presents that their beloved Baltazar (one of the Three Kings) left for them. It is then that the cycle is finally complete! Almost 40 years later, my wife and I attended the yearly Christmas celebration of the Marble Falls Rotary Club in Horseshoe Bay, Texas. A children´s choir sings as we place presents under the tree for the underprivileged children of the area. It is a happy, festive mood, and everyone is hugging and kissing, wishing each other a Happy Christmas. Suddenly, bells start to ring in the present, and just as suddenly my wife and I are transported back to our younger years in Spain. All of our memories start rushing back as we listen to the ringing bells. We vividly remember the exciting, wonderful, magical days that we spent in Spain during our younger years. The Madrid experience will never go away, but at our age now, however, we also enjoy the peaceful, pleasant atmosphere of our present-day celebration. It is possible, we find, to live in two continually evolving experiences at once, now in Horseshoe Bay, Texas while we still harbor very intimate memories of our years in Spain. Merry Christmas! ¡Feliz Navidad!

Posted: 2 years ago

A Personal Christmas Story: Reading the Christmas essay by Frank Longoria reminded me of an essay that I wrote about Christmas in a foreign land closer to home. It happened in Houston, Texas, when we lived in Waco (about seven years ago), and it was about people that I did not know, except for a letter that was sent to my daughter at her job by a woman in the community who could not give any presents to her children at Christmas time. It is a story that is happening now, I am sure, all over the world with the recession. Here is that story:

When I was very young, my parents told me to go to sleep early, leave some milk and cookies, and Santa Claus just might visit our house during the night. He might bring presents and place them under our tree. We three children knew that our parents had little or no money to buy gifts therefore we came down the steps expecting nothing under the tree. To our delight, we each had some surprise, neatly-wrapped presents.

It is with this memory that I got a call from my daughter who lives in Houston. She is in Human Resources for a company. She said: "! got a letter, checked on the person, and the need for some help getting gifts (especially bikes) for three boys. The company has already allocated its Christmas giving so I am doing something myself." Later, I got to read the letter and it started something like this: "I am writing this letter because my family has fallen into extremely hard times recently. I worked for the company for many years. My husband's job is practically non-existent. Right now, he has exhausted all his unemployment benefits and his company medical insurance has been eliminated. All our funds go to food and our children's health care. Our pride and the way we were both raised have prevented us from asking for public assistance but we need help now. Especially with Christmas! We have 3 boys who have never given us a moment's trouble."�

My daughter said, "Do you know anyone who might donate three bikes? I will add my own money for cloths and some gift certificates so that the woman and her husband have something for Christmas. Also I will check with a local church that helps at this time of year for those who cannot help themselves."�

My answer was: "No, I do not know anyone who has boy's bikes but let me see what I can do."� The letter had said: "All three (boys) really need and want bicycles (sizes: 26" and two 24"s).:"�

As parents, my wife and I had preached the axiom: Better to give than receive. But you never know if the lesson is learned. I know now from that telephone call that it had, therefore I started out trying to find three bikes in good (but used) condition. My first call was to Outback Bicycles. They had no used bikes but when they learned the reason for the inquiry they gave advice. "Go around to the pawn shops. You can bargain with them for a good price on bicycles."� Ten pawn shops later and four days of comparing prices, I found the best price for three good bikes.

I know little or nothing about bicycles so I asked my friend John (who rides each day for exercise and pleasure) to go with me and view them. To see him trying each one out in the parking lot, on deflated tires (since the pawn shops do not want them driven away before someone pays), was worth the final cost (less than new ones- even less than most used ones- but fair for the pawn shop owner). By the time that John checked the gears, brakes, each coupling and kick stand, I knew that I was making a sound investment.

After taking them to Houston, I sat, being told in detail about presenting the gifts to the family. They lived in a small apartment (the five of them) and their faces lighted up when the bikes and clothes were presented. Normally, the two younger boys argue but now they acted like the gentlemen they were and agreed on who got which 24"� bike. The mother was in tears when my daughter and a co-worker left the house. In fact, all were close to tears of joy.

Later, Anne and I went down to Houston again on the 25th and celebrate our exchange of gifts but now we jointly know that the best gift has already been given to us: the gift of giving. Somehow, when you know that you have so much and others have little or none, simple gifts of giving make the holidays come alive with added meaning. The mother of the three boys' last words in her letter speaks volumes about this season: "God bless you all and please don't mention my name. I feel so ashamed about asking but my children come first."�