Paella...

We arrive at a cottage off the main road that is surrounded by wine fields. We walked into the house and were greeted by a handful of “holas” and a bunch more “que tals.” We have learned that the local tradition is for men to kiss on both cheeks of the women and by the third day this has become habit for us. We meet the man of the house and learn that this is merely a weekend home where he grows some local vino. The wives (Chris and I were taught last night that the culture in the islands is more traditional here and women do everything…Chris is planning on having a conversation with Kathleen when he returns home…Kayce already knows) began to put out appetizers (raw fish on melba toast, little fish again with eyes staring at us, cheese, bread, tomatoes with tons of garlic, some kind of soup that had chick peas and some meat in it and the piece de resistance…sour cream and onion potato chips) while we were all led away to try some of the homemade wine that Marsial had created.

They told us that if we drank too much of this wine, we would end up like the dog (see picture above). We conversed with Rotarians and their spouses for the next little while and then were asked to sit around a large table as more and more people began to come in the doorway…each with a pleasant “hola.” More food began to come out of the kitchen as we sat and spoke in Spanish/English. We got more wine and beer passed to us than any of us should have drank and then the main course arrived. Marcial and another Rotarian came in around 2 pm carrying the largest skillet on the face of the earth to cheers from the crowd that had gathered around all of the tables. Naturally, the team joined in the clapping and celebrated the arrival of more food…even though we were completely full from the appetizers. Before we knew it, a plate was thrown down in front us that contained paella (a concoction of rice, shrimp, prawns, peppers, clams and who knows what else). We all dug in realizing that this would be our largest meal of the day and the fiesta could possibly last all night. Around 60 people did not make a dent in the food contained in that skillet. None of us realized that we should have left room for dessert but as soon as we placed our forks on the plates, they were cleared and Cayeta (the lady sitting to my left, who I learned has a son who went to school in South Dakota for tourism but came back and works for the family business now...see, my Spanish is much better) presented a pan of a custard-like dish and forced us all to take one. This was dessert number one. Dessert number two came out 3 seconds later and was an apple strudel like cake which again we were all forced to indulge in. Dessert number three came out almost immediately afterward and was some sort of berry pound cake (I think blackberry, Chris thinks cranberry and Catherine thinks blueberry) (at this point we didn’t dare decline as we didn't want to hurt Cayeta's feelings). Dessert number four was a coffee cake that reminded us all of tiramisu (yes we all had some). At this point in the evening, Cayeta and all of her friends began to tell me that there is way more sugar in the desserts in Spain than in America….I think by this point we have all gained 12 extra pounds. Dessert number five was shots of homemade sweet wine/rum. We had a toast and all the Americans drank the shots in one gulp (like normal) and the locals all laughed at us as they drank theirs very slowly. Needless to say it burnt going down. Carla had two again. Dessert number six came out and we had no room in our stomachs. Absolutely no room. There was a plate full of what looked like macaroons. They tasted like a mix between cotton candy and roasted marshmallows. We tried them and they were the best. Should have saved room for more but there was none. Cayeta (who had now become my best friend after several glasses of vino – which we later found out contains 12.5 percent alcohol by volume) told me that she made this merely from huevos and azucar (that translates as eggs and sugar…Ken Tucker). Dessert number seven was optional – the guys enjoyed cigars and the girls had café. Seven must have been the magic number because the desserts stopped coming…Or at least they stopped coming to us…Or at least they saw that our stomachs were sticking out on top of the tables so they stopped bringing them. We all got up out of our seats to stretch our legs and our bellies and I accidentally knocked some piece of decoration off the wall and broke it…All the Rotarians laughed but Bert and Chris made fun of me.

After dinner entertainment came by way of a guitar and what we call a ukulele. Some guys were standing in the corner singing their hearts out. We all sat around and clapped along. Raphael brought me some whiskey that was too strong to smell, let alone drink…I politely tried it but couldn’t get it down…I think what little bit I did get down, put some hair on my chest. The whole atmosphere was one that we will never forget…as we saw the incredible camaraderie that exists among Rotarians…We have seen this in our district when Ed Maier treated us like family even though we had never met him but to see it in another culture was special.
After the entertainment, (around 7 pm) we were introduced to a Rotary Scholar from Chile (Carolina) who is studying in Spain and visiting the island for the conference this week. She was very interesting and we hope to get to know more about her when we are at the conference later this week. Marcial then decided that we needed a tour of the wine process and his winery. We all grabbed a jacket (the wind was fierce) and headed out to the fields. He has 325 grape vines and each is protected by a stone wall built in a half circle that blocks the northeastern wind that is constantly blowing on this portion of the island. Marcial told us that it takes only five hours for his family to harvest the field each August and just one day for him to finish the rest. This supplies him with wine for the entire year plus much more. He doesn’t sell any of it…just is happy to share it with friends and family…Needless to say, we all hope to be bringing some wine back home with us.
After the tour, we were led back inside for a thank you speech in which Bert tried to speak Spanish, although he did quite well…Alfredo and Catherine bailed him out (Russ and Nancy Warmath - Catherine nor Bert has been sick yet...we are keeping our fingers crossed that we don't need to put into use the exercise from Clemson). Catherine was asked to introduce the team in Spanish and did a marvelous job expressing our thanks to the Rotarians present at the Fiesta. We ended the evening and headed home with our stomachs completely full. At some point during the evening the sun must have went down because it was dark outside when we left. The afternoon turned evening turned night was an experience that we will never forget and just think we have 26 days left…

Disclaimer: Chris and Nic are co-authoring the blogs for the trip.