3 months later...

this is kind of tardy. but that's expected, right?
its yom kippur today, a day of reflection for the jews around the world.
so i am reflecting.
its crazy how much six months away from the land you have inhabited your whole life can change you. i know they practically scream it in your face it in every study abroad brochure, but i am here to concur. my experience has made me more understanding of world perspectives, well versed in communicating without the aid of good ol English, and a hell of a lot more comfortable with myself. while i am back in Boston and loving it, i do miss my experience in spain and all the crazy characters i met.

about that farm. i have been putting off writing about the farm in Asturias for many moons. the farm was breathtaking: nestled in the Asturian hills overlooking an uninhabited valley. the nearest town was 1 hour walk. no close neighbors, though on one adventure we met a cute little old lady who only spoke Gallego to me but could understand Castellano... and a cute little 6 year old named Rubén. Maya and i slept in an old broken down trailer above the main house. there was no toilet... just a sweet lil throne like thing in the woods. the house was powered solely on solar energy, and we could not waste one ounce.

the farmers were quite the characters: a couple in their 30s (one Dutch one Catalan) who were expecting. both had strong personalities, one adamantly disapproving of the internet and America (and not afraid to rub that in the 6 Americans' faces) and the other on an emotional and hormonal rollercoaster. no shortage of character, as you can surmise. there were 4 other American volunteers besides Maya and me, and all around our age. 2 from the northwest (Seattle and Boise) and 2 from Atlanta. kind of amazing that we all landed in the middle of nowhere for these 2 weeks (in which July 4th just happened to fall). our fourth of july was one of the most bizarro surreal celebrations of American life i have ever been privy to: beer, pancakes, hash browns and joints around a fire along side a river in northern spain, with 6 Americans and one self confessed anti-americano.

the animals on the farm included: Tarzan, a horse; 2 donkeys (Fiora had a baby donkey on our last day there ! magical! she was a big guy for something that had just popped out of the womb) ; chickens; kittens; and 4 sweet dogs with their own personalities. Bronco was the alpha male, and a noble one at that. Loba was the sweet but goofy alpha female who was not an ambiturner. Urse was the beautiful son of these two who was quite the mischevious boy. Belly was the little one, and would often go with her brother on long sojourns to the next town where they would be fed by their "abuelos" (elders in the town who gave them scraps of meat).

we would wake up at 7, prepare breakfast and eat until around 9-930, when we'd start working. we worked in the terraced fields; weeding and planting and trimming; we'd shovel donkey shit for fertilizer, hack down stinging nettles to make new plots, and DIG. boy, did we dig. at first we helped prepare the road for a pipeline. then we started helping dig out this canal that had been filled decades before, when the farm was a fully functioning village of 50 people.

the work was intense. i started singing to occupy my mind while doing lots of manual labor. one day Maya and I went through every show tune and Disney song we knew. i grew comfortable with my own singing, and got into the habit of starting a song when i felt like it. i think that won me the respect of the farmers. the community was intense as well, as we'd eat every meal together and there were few people we met outside the farm (as it was so isolated). lots of heated discussions about how dinner should be eaten and conscientiousness about portions and giving back/receiving. it wasn't always easy.

i look back now, with lots of time passed (oy) and really appreciate all that i learned. i have heard about various other wwoofing experiences, but this was certainly the extreme version of an intro to WWOOFing , as my friend Tom said the first day we were on the farm. and maybe i needed that extreme, after the polar opposite experience of bustling metropolitan Madrid.