El Entierro de la Sardina

Not understanding what's going on is part of being a foreigner. We're accustomed to this sensation, if not entirely comfortable with it. But some experiences are more extreme than others. El Entierro de la Sardina (The Burial of the Sardine) is one of these. On Ash Wednesday, as Carnival is winding down, there is one last absurd celebration. It's a Spanish tradition recorded in a Goya painting circa 1812 and enjoyed throughout Spain.

In Madrid, the mourners gather and parade down the street for hours carrying a miniature coffin complete with a well dressed sardine. The band plays. The pall bearers dance in circles bouncing the deceased up and down at the ends of ropes. The women cry beneath their veils. Family and friends dressed for grieving throw confetti and candy.




After an hour and a half Alex and I decided to throw in the towel. There were miles to go before the final burial, and it was getting repetitive for us. But not for the mourners who enjoyed each bar along the funeral parade. No one seems to remember what this party was really about when it began a few hundred years ago. But it's not important. It's another chance to have an absurdly good time with friends.

Veterans display annual pins

A few words about the deceased

The endless noise and frivolity

Telecambio

Remember back in November when I decided to practice my verb tense conjugations on the telemarketer from Jazztel - the main opposition phone/internet service provider in Spain? At the time, I was trying to get them to stop calling.

They have recently started calling again. And I've been working on a new idea: keep them on the line for as long as possible.

I thought that I would approach the telemarketer as an intercambio opportunity: the telemarketer would get to practice his sales pitch, and I would get to practice my Spanish. Most people in language class are eager to set up intercambios. I find it difficult to get over the awkwardness. But this anonymity would be my perfect cover. No need to feel embarrassed since I wouldn't know who I was talking to. And no need to feel guilty about subjecting someone to such a boring conversation since I didn't initiate the call. Jazztel has been wasting our time for months. Turnabout is fair play, right? I just needed to wait for the phone to ring again.

So tonight we had a little dinner entertainment. Jazztel called and asked for Juan Patreek and gave me my first telecambio.

I explained that Juan was unable to come to the phone because he was eating dinner, but I had a number of questions. Okay, I didn't understand a lot of what she said. But it was fun. I kept asking questions, doing my best to keep the conversation going, using new grammar. Unlike a conversation with someone in person, this time I just kept correcting myself until I finally got each sentence right. The woman must have been absolutely desperate for a commission to stay on the line.

It was great.

Until she said something that sounded suspiciously like she was sending a contract that I could cancel within the next 15 days if I changed my mind. That's when I realized I could be in trouble, and I started to panic a little. Finally she asked if someone else in the house spoke better Spanish. Little did she know that Alex was waiting in the wings chomping at the bit to take over.

He began (in quick Spanish with a decent accent that made us proud), "My mother is just talking to you to practice her Spanish. We do not want your internet service." And on he went for another several minutes while the rest of us listened and laughed. He did make sure that we weren't roped into a contract. Thank goodness.

It worked out so well that I have a new idea. Tomorrow I'm going to get the newspaper and seek out new telecambio opportunities to sign up for. It's a gold mine for language students.