Smith Visit

Long awaited, long anticipated ... the Smiths came to visit!!! They could not have gotten here soon enough and they could not have stayed long enough. We were fortunate to be included in their cross-continental travels. They are friends but they feel like family. We're even thinking of moving in with them when we return to Evanston! (Just kidding, Barbara. Catch your breath.)

Elena and Ruby tried to make up for lost time over the past year and spent every waking AND sleeping moment together. Elena even convinced Ruby to come for the last day of school.

Barbara wasn't as convinced as the gates slammed shut - keeping the kids in and the parents out. We did walk to the doors in the front of the school, just in case Ruby needed to escape. She stayed all day (which, at the end of the school year, is just a 1/2 day). Willow hung out with the adults and tried out some of her Spanish at the local café, bread store, and restaurant.

All of us went to the end of the year (water) party at the kid's school. It was held in the evening after the last day of school. The kids were wild. Barbara must have looked pretty wild too because a little hambone of a boy attacked her with a squirt gun.

Like we do with all our visitors, we showed them around the old and new of Valencia. We walked (and walked and walked) through the old city until Willow and Ruby's feet wore down to stubs.

We also showed them the Turia ... Valencia's beautiful river park. The kids (and adults) climbed Gulliver and slid down the slides. We showed them the skating hole that we nicknamed the "Babysitter" because young children can't get out by themselves. Note: Willow was able to get out.

We smelled the roses on the way to the City of Arts and Sciences and had a picnic.

I am not sure how Matthew got this impression but he considers Barbara and Steve to be quite a sophisticated couple who drink only the finest of wines. Before they arrived, Matthew solicited Amy's help in buying some "fine" wine. When we were having a picnic in the Umbracle (arboreum), Matthew pulled out the fine wine and REAL wine glasses ... so Barbara and Steve could picnic in style (as they are so accustomed to).

Then, while Barbara and I tended to the wide and disparate needs of all of the children, Matthew and Steve stayed at the Queen Sophia Palace of the Arts (the "Helmet") to enjoy the opera/circus/theatrical performance based on Richard Wagner's Siegfried. Look closely, those little dots on the left are performers hanging from cables. Actually, the performance started at "prime time" in Spain, which is long past Barbara's bedtime.

Of course, we wouldn't miss the beach in June. Fortunately, Bronson warned Barbara when NOT to look (at topless bathers). I decided to keep my top on so as not to embarrass our guests.

Before leaving Steve wanted to eat at a local restaurant to get a true cultural experience. It WAS an experience ... though we are not sure it was a Spanish cultural experience.

The four of us -- Barbara and Steve (an English couple living in the US) and Matthew and I (a US couple living in Spain) -- ordered tapas from a German waiter at a Brazilian pizza restaurant. Our waiter served us AND entertained us. He had a lot of opinions and no inhibitions.

He began by telling us that he was from Germany, which, he said, is a peculiar country especially regarding the war. (Don't mention the war.) We asked for recommendations from the menu. He pointed out a few items that he recommended from the menu and then loudly exclaimed (so his supervisor and colleagues could hear), "EVERYTHING ON THE MENU IS RECOMMENDED." Later, he asked if we would like the house special (liquor), adding that he would never bust his liver by drinking the stuff. We bust our guts laughing. We ordered 2 waters, received 1, watched another fly out of his broken hand onto the ground, and paid for 4. It was worth it.

We're not sure we can wait another whole year to see them again.

All our photos from their visit:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/abrownell/sets/72157605817069183/

As a slideshow:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/abrownell/sets/72157605817069183/show/

Welcome Home!

I'm home! I am so happy to see my family and friends. All the kids were so happy to see me too ... at least for the first few hours until it came time for me to enforce a few rules that were overlooked when I was gone.

That certainly is no insult to Matthew! He generally tends to be a bit more lax than I with the rules. But, more importantly, who do you know that would take care of the kids and the home while his wife left for 40 days? Without Matthew, my camino would not have been possible. Thank you, Matthew!!

After walking 800+ km in my tennis shoes (which were already a few years old), I thought maybe I would get some new shoes. So, I promised Yana that I would take her shoe shopping. She nearly fainted. I've now decided that there is still some life in my tennis shoes. No worries. I will honor my promise ... someday!

Matthew and Amy were happy to see me too. (Eugene is not home. He started the camino in May.) They were happy for me to watch the kids while they relaxed. They were happy for me to walk the kids to school. They were happy for me to cook once in a while and clean once in a while. For now, I can only imagine what it was like with seven children. Next spring, I'll be able to experience it first-hand when Matthew goes on the camino.


They had a party for me on Saturday when I got home. Sara, Sophia and Elenita were here. The kids made me cards and covered the door with flowers that were as beautiful as those I saw on the camino.

When I arrived in Santiago, I received a compostela - a certificate of completion. It is written in Latin and it is pretty cool. I am going to keep it in my drawer. When I arrived at home, I received a Certificate of Award from Maria. It is primary colors and it is priceless. I am going to put it up on the wall.

Everyone thought I lost weight by walking every day. I didn't lose any weight. I certainly still have my child-bearing trophy (abdominal pudge). Maybe I redistributed my weight a little bit.

I have a pair of skin-tight jogging pants. (Yeah - I'm not sure why I own jogging pants either.) When I started the camino, my jogging pants were so tight that I had to strrrrrretch and squirrrrrm and squeeeeeze to get them on. By the time I finished the camino, I only had to strrrrrretch and squirrrrrm to get them on. Also, I think I may have gone down one bra-size. Now, I wear a negative.

Anyway, it doesn't matter. On Saturday, Matthew and Sara made German chocolate cake covered and layered with coconut and frosting and dripping with sin.

On Sunday, Pachi came to visit and brought a homemade chocolate and vanilla nata cake frosted with chocolate on top and white cream on the sides and drizzled with white chocolate.

On Monday, Elvira came for comida and brought a gourmet chocolate covered, yummy creamy layered cake with chocolate truffles on the top and sides. Elvira also brought my favorite pan de leche rolls and thick, rich, Spanish hot chocolate.

And I saved a box of Hughes' chocolate covered toffees that my in-laws sent in March. Hmm. I will simply HAVE to eat those before it gets hot or they will melt.

So, if I did lose any weight, I gained it all back before I had a chance to step on a scale. I need some exercise. I think I'll go for a walk.

The Camino de Santiago - My Favorite

I'm home. I missed my family and friends ... but I wasn't ready to come home. I loved the camino and I did not want it to end.

My favorite part of the camino was the ...
* walk * colors * smells *

* flowers * forests * fields * food *

* towns (hamlets) * cities *

* people * experience *

* the simplicity *
* the complexity *

I loved the walk. Every day was exactly the same same, but different. We woke up, we got dressed (except for a few chilly nights when I slept in ALL the clothes that I brought), we ate a little, and we walked ... and walked and walked. Sometimes we walked uphill, sometimes we walked downhill. Sometimes we walked through fields, sometimes we walked through forests. Sometimes we walked through little towns (hamlets), sometimes we walked through big cities. We always walked but the walks were different every day.

It rained a lot. There was record rainfall in April and May. I love the rain. My shoes aren't waterproof but my feet are. One day, we had 12 kilometers between towns. It was raining and there was little cover. In the middle of farms, there was a farm truck. A man was sitting in the back of the truck with hot coffee and cookies for the pilgrims. Even the biggest grumps were happy.

I loved the colors. The camino is my new favorite color. Greens, blues, purples, yellows, reds, oranges, pinks, browns, whites and blacks - in combinations that you would not think look good together. The colors were beautiful and brilliant.

At the top of a hill, you can look ahead to see where you are going (or where you have been). The path might look brown in the distance. When you get there, it is bright yellow and pink and purple and green and brown and white. Brilliant colors.

I loved the smells. Thyme, rosemary, lilacs, roses, and millions of other plants and flowers that I couldn't identify. One day, they were mowing the grass at a big park (surrounding the albergue in Burgos). Fresh cut grass! So badly, I wanted to lay down in it and roll around. I did grab a clump of fresh cut grass and stuck it in my pocket. It didn't smell as good the next day.

I loved the sounds. I loved the sounds of the crickets and birds and frogs. They were deafening. I loved walking into the wind or along a river. The white noise blocked everything else out. I loved the sound of walking - crunch, squeak, crunch, squeak.

I loved the flowers, the forests, and the fields. There are so many different flowers on the camino and even the ones that look plain from a distance ... are beautiful and colorful and complex. Natural forest green, which means all the different greens that are together in a forest, has been my favorite color since I was a little kid. Many times on the camino, I was surrounded by natural forest green. I loved it.

The so-called "boring" part of the camino is the Meseta - the plateau with fields of cereal grains for miles and miles. The fields were greenish, bluish, purplish, tanish, brownish. The wind would gently blow some patches and not others ... so there were patches and waves of different colors. I loved it.

I loved the food. Most days, I ate a pilgrim's menu ... bread, drink, salad, entrée, and dessert. Usually, there was a big mixed salad, meat and fries, and flan or ice cream. One day, pumkin soup was on the menu. I was a bit reluctant to try it, but it was raining and cold and I thought I would have something warm. Yummy! It was the BEST soup I've ever had (uh, not including Oma's .. hee hee).

I stayed at albergues (al - bear - gays), which are hostels specifically for pilgrims on the camino. Some albergues were monestaries, churches, public community buildings, and private homes. Some were really, really old and others were really new. Sometimes you slept in a room with 100 other people (and a symphony of snores); other times with 3 other people (and a duet of snores). Light sleepers are encouraged to use earplugs.

I loved the little towns or hamlets as the English folks called them. In the distance, you could see a church tower sticking up and you knew there was a town coming up. The town might have seven buildings including a church, a bar or two, an albergue, and a few homes that appeared to be boarded up. Often, the "supermarket" was in the bar. The bar was usually filled with pilgrims - sometimes absolutely packed with pilgrims.

I loved the cities - especially cities that love their parks so much that they garnished them with flowers and bushes and trees and walkways.

I loved the people. There were a lot of people on the camino - a lot more than I expected. I expected to have a lot of alone time on the camino ... but it didn't work that way. I took a few walks by myself and I enjoyed them. But, mostly I enjoyed being with other people. There is a simple (public) side to everyone ... Hi! How are you? Where are you from? There is also a complex (private) side. On the camino, there is often the opportunity to get to know both.

Bob is from Australia. He made fun of my improper gear - my super-slow-dry clothing, my garbage bag raincoat, and my holey tennis shoes that got soaked even when it wasn't raining. He let me buy him coffee (and he made me coffee in his billy), he carried my peanut butter and my pepper shaker (they were heavy!), he let me beat him in cribbage and Euchre, he told me every last detail of every farm machine that exists (absolutely fascinating! hee hee), sometimes he drank my share of the wine at the pilgrims' menu, and he taught me some Australian words - some of them I can't repeat.

I met heaps of people. Natalie (below, left) is a mid-wife from Canada. She is a can-do kind of person who could turn unfortunate events into her favor. I met an older woman who had such a great attitude toward everything, including her own slow but steady progress on the camino (below, right). I called her Miss Wild Rose ... after the "small, unknown town" in Wisconsin where she grew up (and, coincidentally, where we had a summer home).

I met Patricia whose bike broke the same day that the bank machine ate her cash card. She smiled and laughed and was so genuinely happy that she made you wish that your bike broke and that you lost your cash card. (She reminded me of you, Katty!) I met Pat (below, left with Bob) and Glenn from Canada. I met Francois. After staring at him for a long time, I realized that he looks kind of like my dad.

I met a fashion statement (below). She had matching socks, tights, knickers, undershirt, polo shirt, overshirt, earings, scarf and eye shadow. My turtleneck, shirt, underwear, and socks did match ... they were all a dingy white.

I met a guy who had biked all the way from Belgium but hadn't showered or shaved (I shared a room with him - eeew). I met Brian and Bridget and Katie and Sue and Marg and Carlos and Hyo-Jin and John and Jeannette and Agnes and Susanna and Katherine and Ruloff. I met lots of other people to whom we gave nicknames ... Masseuse, Spanish couple, Canadian girl, Neanderthal/Bloody Knuckles, Whiner, etc.

I love Susan Emery! Susan dropped her hectic schedule at work to travel to Spain and walk with me for the last 100+ km of the camino. She was without sleep for more than 36 hours when she arrived in Sarria and THEN walked with me for 20 km UPHILL in the RAIN (really). She brought raw almonds, Jelly Bellies, Good 'n Plenty, and some super heavy energy bars! We had to eat a lot the first few days to lighten her pack. Like always, Susan made everything so much more fun! She is one of my favorite people in the whole wide world!

Ok. My kids say that I love everything and that everything is my favorite. That is not true. I just don't like to talk about things that I don't like. But, to fill out the picture of the camino ... there were a few things that I didn't like.

There were hardly any bathrooms for pilgrims - especially females who were not comfortable or very adept at squatting (like me). So, it cost about 1,20 euro (almost $2) to buy a drink so that I could then use the bathroom. That doesn't make any sense! After drinking the drink, you have to go to the bathroom again 5 km down the camino.

I didn't like grumpy people - people who treated the volunteer hosts at the albergues badly, people who huffed and puffed when the one waitress who was serving 50 people didn't respond in a timely manner, people who grumped about anything and everything.

I hated the litter!! (Sorry, Dad, I know you hate the word hate but the passion of the feeling fits here.) Sometimes, there was sooo much litter - water bottles, cans, wrappers, plastic bags, etc. I got really grumpy (see previous point about grumpy people) and I openly expressed my unfavorable opinion about people who litter. I'm pretty certain that I offended at least one person with my opinions - he avoided me after that. Surprise!

I have 2500+ photos from the camino - yet photos cannot capture the experience. I saw those clouds. I smelled those flowers. I felt that rain and that sun and that wind. I walked past those fields and over those hills and through those forests and along those rivers. I visited those churches, I lit those candles for our loved ones, I touched those crosses. The best part of the experience is the experience.

Here are heaps more photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/abrownell/sets/72157605448053375/

Same thing in a slideshow:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/abrownell/sets/72157605448053375/show/

Camino de Santiago - Ann's Progress

Hello Everyone!!!! It's us (Matthew and the kids) just letting you know that Ann is ok and thoroughly enjoying her camino in Northern Spain. She is meeting a lot of very nice people from around the world and is absorbing all she can. She sends greetings to you all.



She sent the following Post Card to us the other day. It highlights the path that she and is taking.


If you want to see her progress, then put your finger on the bull in the picture below (bottom middle picture) and then move your finger upwards until you reach the brown line. The town (pueblo) is called Sahagún and that is where she emailed us from today.

Ann surpassed the half way point (375 kilometers) today. She has walked a total of 382 kilometers thus far. That's 237 miles in 20 days or 12 miles per day. To locate her starting point, follow the same brown line to the right. It's the one that eventually points directly at "Francia" near the France/Spain border.

Ann is looking forward to meeting up with her friend Susan from Chicago in a week or so. They will share a week together catching up while meandering down the century old Camino.



I'm sure that Ann with provide us with a more complete blog upon her return so we'll just share a couple cool pictures we just received.


The pilgrims stay in "Albergue's" (like hostels) and they each have their own very unique style as you can see below.

We know how much Mom likes nature and she says that many times pictures just can't capture the depth of what she is seeing but we love them anyway.

Thanks for all your support and please keep Ann, Susan, Eugene (Ann's Brother) and all the Pilgrims close at heart and in prayer.

As Ann mentioned in her last blog update, Eugene will be embarking on the Camino too. He departs May 18. The rest of his family plan to reunite with him in a month close to where he will be finishing so they can all enjoy Galicia, Spain together.

We all miss MOM very much but we are excited about her journey and we enjoy living it out through her letters, emails, and photos.

We know many of you feel sorry for us because Mom is gone but as you can see below we are in great shape and managing just fine.

The Way of St. James ... El Camino de Santiago

On Tuesday (April 22), I will begin the Camino de Santiago ... a traditionally Catholic pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela where St. James is buried. Actually, there are many routes of the pilgrimage. I will be taking the French route. I will start at Roncesvalles (just inside Spain) and walk about 800 kilometers across northern Spain to Santiago.


Why? Because ...

... it is there
... I love walking
... I love Spain and I love to see it close-up
... I love seeing and connecting with history
... because I am here.

I will be going by myself ... though the (French) camino is a well-traveled, well-marked route and I will meet a lot of people along the way. Of course, I will bring my parents, Sarah Bush, Sherri Prestangen, and other angels in my heart.

On May 22, my friend Susan, is going to meet me and we will walk the last 100+ kilometers together. As she said, we will contemplate important things in life such as "Do these hiking shorts make my butt look big?" and "How far do you have to walk to burn off a Spanish breakfast pastry?"


The average pilgrim takes about 30 days to complete this particular route. I'm giving myself 40 days because I want to "smell the roses" along the way. Plus, I walk slow. I figured I couldn't finish the whole thing in 30 days without killing myself so I bumped it up to the next nice even number. Also, 40 is a biblical number. If God wants to work on me, I'll give Him 40 days to get started. (You are probably thinking that God will need 40 years. I agree.)


Three weeks after I leave, my brother, Eugene, will begin the camino. (I'm just hoping that Eugene doesn't pass me before I get to the end.)


The easiest part is packing. I have to carry everything so I'm not packing very much. I am wearing almost all the clothes that I'm bringing ... (yes, including my blue SPSS sweater that I have worn almost every day for the past 10+ years).


The hardest part will be - being away from my family. Matthew and I have never been the type to want vacations away from our kids (though, at times, it would probably be rejuvenating). Most of the time, we really enjoy being with the kids. One of the reasons we came to Spain at this time in our lives is because we wanted to experience it with our kids.

Language Acquisition

We've been in Spain for almost a year. Matthew and my language acquisition has been slower than we hoped ... but we have improved. If people a-r-t-i-c-u-l-a-t-e-d as well as our Spanish learning tapes and used the same phrases as our Spanish learning tapes, it would be a lot easier!

When we first arrived, we strained and struggled to recognize keywords. Someone would say,
"Blah blah blah mañana blah blah blah."

We would nod our head, smile stupidly, and think to ourselves, "Okay, either something happened this morning or will happen tomorrow. Great. I hope it isn't important."

Initially, I repeated the one word I understood and hoped they would repeat the remainder of the sentence. They would repeat, "Blah blah blah mañana blah blah blah." It is no use asking most people to speak slower. They often just speak louder and faster. "BLA BLAH BLA MAÑANA BLA BLAH BLA.¨

Then we started recognizing a few phrases that are used A LOT in Spain ...

"Vale Vale"(Okay Okay) ... preceding, interspersed, or following any other phrase. I use this phrase when I'm trying to act like I know what is going on.

"No pasa nada" (Don't worry) ... spoken in any moderately uncomfortable situation. We marveled at this -don't worry, be happy now- attitude that seems so deeply rooted in the Spanish culture. We have since learned that sometimes people say this as a reminder to themselves when really they are feeling, "¡SÍ PASA!"

"¿Quién es último?" (Who is last?) Many tasks require standing in line though often there is no line - there are lots and lots of people standing around in no apparent order. When another person arrives, the person asks, "Quién es último?" The last person raises his hand ... or, back when we didn't know what was going on, everyone else pointed at us.

Now ... a year later ... we understand more. At least, sometimes I THINK I understand. There certainly are times when I THOUGHT I understood but turns out, I didn't. We asked Antonio, the godfather of our apartment complex, where we could get keys made for the gates. He said (in Spanish), "There's only one place in town that can fry mangoes." Huh?

Speaking is a different story - though, that too, has improved.

When we first arrived, we had a handful of words and phrases that we could use when we first met someone. The first time we met our next-door neighbors, we were on the way to the supermarket. We introduced ourselves and quickly used up all the Spanish words we knew. After a moment of staring blankly, Matthew said "Vivimos a supermercado." (We live at the supermarket. instead of We are going to the supermarket.)

Friends (with patience) understood us when we spoke what they called indio-español ... "Hi. Me, Ann. You? Good. We go beach. You come? Vale." I throw "vale" in at the end so it sounds more Spanish.

Matthew had a couple of phrases that sounded good ... as long as he used them on different people. But after a while, people catch on that he just keeps saying the same thing over and over again. Once in a while, he will write something on his hand ... and then he peeks at it when he is trying to talk. The kids think it is hilarious (and embarrassing).

Matthew and I are speaking much better now. The problem is that people don't understand us. A few weeks ago, I was telling my art teacher that we were having guests and I would not be at class for a few weeks. She paused and then said that my Spanish was sooooooo good (she even squinted when she said "buenisimo" which makes the superlative more super). Then she turned to my friend, Noelia, and asked what it was I was trying to say.

Sometimes, it can be so frustrating. I KNOW the words but my mind and my mouth suddenly become paralyzed. I open my mouth and try to talk but only gurgles come out. Some people stand back because they think I'm going to vomit. I use ridicuous sound effects or obscene hand gestures that embarrass our kids and send them scrambling for a place to hide.

Now, we are at a level where we speak English using Spanish words. Most people are very patient or at least allow us to humour them.

Our kids are light years ahead of us. They often speak for us while we are gasping for air between Spanish words or when we are babbling because we've already used all the words currently available in our readily accessible memory.

Well, they say that the best way to learn is to just get out there and talk. Sometimes I say Buenas Dias! to people walking by. Some parents try to sheild their children from me. The children look at me like I just fell out of the sky. Young adults walk faster. (One day, Elena told me not to say hello to people because they think I'm weird!) Older people often smile. A few older people correct me - Buenos dias (it is an o, not an a). I always forget. Buenos dias doesn't rhyme.

I'm reading the newspaper pretty well and (juvenile) Spanish books. I can usually get through the acknowledgements of a book without the dictionary.

Fallas de Valencia

Hello it's Matthew & Bronson. Until now, Mom has posted all the blogs and taken most of the pictures. Our guilt runneth over so now it's our turn. How coincidental that we begin by blogging “Fallas” - Valencia's largest fiesta. So, please bare with us.

What in the world are “Fallas” and where on earth did they come from? This is the question we asked ourselves when Elena came home from school one day full of excitement. She couldn't wait to tell us that she had just invited her friends (Silvia & Empar) over to our house so they could design and create a “Falla”. Our first reaction was panic. We had no idea what to do. There weren't any instructions.



Once we settled down and let life take its course, we learned and experienced the following.

Fallas date back to the 18th Century when they were just one of the many activities leading up to the St. Joseph Day (San José) celebration on March 19 each year. Carpenters used torches to light their work space during the winter. When the torches were no longer needed in the spring, they were burned. Over time, clothing was placed over the torches to create a person-like figure and a bonfire took place on March 19.

The difference between fallas in the days of old and fallas now is the amount of time and money involved. Today, these person-like figures (Satirical Fallas Figures) have grown in size and complexity. Approximately 700 beautifully made and highly decorated satirical fallas are created each year and they are displayed in the street of every neighborhood in the city (2008 winner is pictured below).

Some of the fallas take a year to build and some cost over a million dollars to make.
Fallas Fiesta attract over 2,000,000 visitors each year for a week-long celebration. It was 2,000,003 this year because Mimi, Gabriel, and Dominique joined us : ).


The literature around town tells everyone that the Fallas Fiesta is March 15 – March 19. However, the city-wide free-for-all fireworks set off by everyone who can light one begins March 1. I'm not referring to the sparklers and snakes that we lit as kids with our parents holding our hands but of firecrackers, M-80's, bottle-rockets, etc. that can be purchased by anyone at the local kiosk.

Everyday at 2 pm from March 1 until March 19, mascletás (day-time fireworks) are unleashed by one of the many local Pirotecnia Empresas (Firework Manufacturers). Different fireworks companies display their mascletás each day and thanks to our friend Julia we had a birds-eye view from her second floor balcony office (view left and right respectively).

Valencia's mascletás are the loudest fireworks we have ever heard. They are so loud that they recommend opening your mouth to protect your eardrums. They are also so powerful that they may reach your inner-core – just ask Ann.

Elected representatives called Falleras (females) and Falleros (males) sing as the bands play popular Fallas music on the balcony and at 2 pm one of these representatives says “Pirotecnics, begin the mascletá”.

So, Fallas refers to the fiesta and to the gigantic monuments created for the fiesta. Everyone gets into the spirit of the fiesta. Neighborhood groups called Casals come together to design and create their falla. The falla artists compete for who can make the best fallas (in various categories). Kids learn the art of falla making in primary school and some go on to specialize in falla-art after high school.

Elena and her friends did successfully build their falla without our help.



Maria and her friend (and neighbor), Micaela worked together to make their falla.



Bronson made one with his mother. Bronson also wore a special falla outfit and scarf to school on the 19th called a bluzon.















The kids fallas along with all the other ones made by the students were part of a special falla celebration on their playground on March 19 prior to the city-wide fiesta later on at night. Balloons were popped to mimic the mascletás, the fallas were displayed as the kids marched around the playground and then they were burned. Try that one back home on school property!!!

Falleras and Falleros who are elaborately dressed in traditional hand-made outfits attend the parades, social events, and neighborhood gatherings all over town for the month of March. They are also the ones who elect the “best” falla monument each year.

We don't know what criteria is used to choose the winner but we do know that the falla monuments are satirical. They poke fun at or criticize a local, national, or international issue or person (all in the name of fun – no offense intended).

We also learned that with the exception of one small piece of a falla called a Ninot (pictured above), all fallas are burned on March 19th ... just like in the olden days.

As we walked around the city, we sensed an incredibly strong neighborhood togetherness. Wherever a falla was placed, there was a large white tent. This tent became the gathering place each night for the neighborhood during Fallas fiesta week. Everyone danced, sang, ate, and drank (in moderation) until the wee hours of the morning. The children, too, were there playing and having a good time.



Also during Fallas there are free concerts, buñuelos (doughnut-like pastries), thick hot chocolate, bullfights, marching bands, street-light contests,



mascletás (day-time fireworks), castillos (night-time fireworks), ninot displays (small fallas), fire parade

and the amazing Ofrenda. The Ofrenda is 2-day procession of 100,000 Fallaras, Falleros and their families through the streets all carrying flowers to the Cathedral for the Blessed Virgin in the Plaza de Virgen. The Virgen Mary stands 3-stories tall and these carnations (150,000) are placed within her wooden structure that makes up her colorful robe. In addition to this offering, the plaza is filled with beautifully arranged baskets and carts of all types of flowers. The fragrance was wonderful. An awesome tribute to the Mother of our Lord.


Fallas ends with the Cremá ... the night when the ~700 fallas are burned ... the night the city is on fire!



Fallas finally end for us at 2:30 am and we know that when we wake up the planning has already begun for Fallas 2009. Peeked your interest? Do you want to join us next year?????