Jamie Clift, The Rotunda's longtime features editor, is studying abroad in Valencia, Spain at the Institute of Spanish Studies during the spring 2012 semester. Having stepped down from her position as features editor for the time being, Jamie Clift has charitably taken it upon herself to assume the role as The Rotunda's official Foreign Correspondent. In doing so, she will document her traveling experiences as an exchange student in each issue of The Rotunda.
"Cheers" has always been a favorite sitcom of mine, and let's be honest, the theme song is one of the best in television history: "Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got!" I've always wanted to go where everybody knows my name, but considering that I can't really go to bars in the United States (nor do I have the sort of time for this sort of thing in the U.S.), I figured I would just have to settle for watching Sam and Diane on DVD for eternity.
But here in Valencia, things are quite different. The drinking age is lower, people stay out later and the pace of life goes a little more slowly. I've mentioned Portland Ale House in previous columns; I don't know how I couldn't have. It's the place where I've met nearly all of my friends in Valencia and it's where I've learned more about Spanish culture than I could have by going to all of the tourist sites in Valencia combined. How did I do that at an American bar, you ask? That's easy: English night.
I walk in to a jam-packed bar room every Tuesday at around 8:30 p.m. and I'm surrounded by familiar faces. The owner, an American man named Mike, kisses me on both cheeks, the typical Spanish greeting. I look around and recognize people all over the place, and in fact, almost everyone knows my name.
I follow Mike, or one of the other people who work every week to organize English nights, to a table full of people who are learning English. They all look at me a wide-eyed, waiting for me to speak. I say, "Hello, I'm Jamie and I'll be your English speaker tonight." Then I ask them to go around the table and introduce themselves. I wait for their responses to gauge their English level, and using what I gather, I decide what kinds of questions I'm going to ask them.
It's really impossible to know where the conversation is going to go. I've talked about everything from the Spanish lifestyle to American football for hours on end. I've met more types of people than you could imagine: unemployed engineers, people who work for the United Nations, scuba divers and history professors.
The types of people who go to English nights at Portland aren't usually just of average intelligence. Most of these people speak at least three languages and have incredibly impressive degrees. Then they use their spare time to practice English in the hope of finding a job because unemployment among people aged 18-30 in Spain is around 50 percent, and no, that is not an exaggeration. But despite their interesting lives, English night often turns into an "ask the American really random questions night." They ask about my family, my hometown and basically any question you would be asked on a really awkward first date.
But I love to talk, and I enjoy every minute of this. I tell them about Virginia and what it's like to live there. Many times, I draw them a map.
I can't count how many times I've been asked where Virginia is. I get a lot of, "Oh, Virginia, that is next to California, right?" They always love to hear about how my brother shoots and eats squirrels and deer and how my uncle lives on a river that's several kilometers wide.
I also get to explain American traditions like prom and homecoming, which they frequently see in movies and have lots of questions about. I tell them about bacon, peanut butter and maple syrup, all rarities in Europe. I'm not just helping them practice English; we're sharing our cultures for a few hours.
In addition to meeting about a half dozen interesting Spaniards every week, I get a free meal and a beer for coming and teaching English. It's pretty much the best deal in Valencia. The cook, also named Mike, makes the best burgers and chicken nuggets in Spain. Yes, Spanish food is fantastic, but every once in a while, I need to eat something smothered in barbecue sauce.
I know going to English night at Portland every week probably hasn't been the best thing in the world for practicing Spanish. You can criticize me if you want, but I would not change a thing. I owe Portland for introducing me to my best Spanish friends. If I hadn't gone to English nights, I would have missed out on some pretty wonderful experiences.
I wouldn't know Mayte, who I go out dancing with almost every week, nor would I know Yamuna or Celia. I would never have met Marcos, who took Ashton and me to his neighborhood during Fallas. I wouldn't have had the opportunity to discuss Spanish politics, hear firsthand about the unemployment crisis or discuss the pros and cons of the Mediterranean diet in such an amazing and relaxed atmosphere. Portland is not just a bar; it's the best classroom in Valencia.
