EXPAT OBSERVATIONS: SUNDAYS IN SPAIN
/There's an ever-growing list of Spanish things I want to import to the US, but regrettably, my favorite is not so easily transported in a carry-on: the Spanish Sunday.
Sundays are special in Spain. Time stops. Much like the total country shutdown that is August or the 2-5PM siesta, Sunday is a time of forced rest. Virtually all stores — grocery stores, malls, Ikea — are closed, which means there's absolutely no errand-running. For Americans accustomed to 24/7 accessibility, this can epitomize inconvenience — the kids' international school had a whole parent orientation segment addressing this very issue — but once you get used to it (read: you remember to plan Sunday dinner on Saturday), it's bliss.
Because no one has the "I'm busy" excuse, Spaniards use Sundays to congregate. And eat. For many, many hours at a time. We've been invited to partake in a few Sunday lunches so far, and they are easily 6-7 hour affairs. This past weekend, a colleague invited several of us to her family's homestead (complete with 12th century castle) in Alella, a hilltop wine town overlooking the Mediterranean; we arrived at 11:00AM and left just past 6:00PM. There was a walk through the vineyards, pool and playtime in the garden, an early (1:00PM) lunch for the children and a normal (2:00) lunch (paella cooked over a special outdoor propane burner) for the adults, and then coffee and dessert and fruit and chatting. Rather than the American concern of overstaying your welcome, the worry here is about understaying. It's an approach to life that we can totally get behind.
