Fresh air and kindness in Copenhagen

Lauren and I arrived to the Copenhagen airport on Thursday evening with not a krone in hand or a word in Danish to work with. In an attempt to find the M2 (Metro line), we got on an S-train that would have taken us halfway across Denmark.

Enter: Good-looking, middle-aged, perfect English-speaking Danish man.

Timidly, Lauren and I asked the man across the aisle if he knew if the train went to Nørreport, the Metro stop closest to our airbnb. He said it didn’t, that we had to get off the train and switch to another train. He told us that the stop was coming up and then chatted with us by the door as we waited to arrive at the station. After we all got off the train, Lauren and I paused while we caught our bearings; he walked away and then promptly returned, telling us he was going the same way. We hurried along with him as he suggested that we smoke some pot while we were in the city (Mom and Dad, don’t worry; we didn’t follow his suggestion.) and that we check out the Louisana, a world class modern art museum. Shortly after getting on the metro, Lauren and I arrived at our final stop; we said goodbye to our Danish metro guardian angel and commented to each other on the quite positive first impression we had gotten from the Danish people.

Upon exiting the metro station, Lauren and I dodged a number of bikes, quickly realizing that our confusion was causing a disturbance to the well-orchestrated bike traffic flow. We moved to the side of the road, searched for street signs and when we struggled to see them over the construction of the square, we entered a pharmacy to ask for help.

Enter: Young, hip, perfect English-speaking Danish girl.

We struggled through a pronunciation of the street name and she nodded immediately, somehow understanding our shattered (more intense than broken) Danish. We were only a street or two off, so we left in full confidence of our direction.

However, our confidence didn’t last for long since we didn’t know which of my directions referred to street names and which referred to building names. We were supposed to walk 5 minutes after crossing the bridge but when we walked 10, we knew we had gone too far. We stopped, trying to look at Lauren’s TripAdvisor map through all of the “Points of Interest” (not interesting at the moment, but it worked without data or wifi, so we were thankful), when…

Enter: Mid-30s Danish couple returning to their home with groceries.

The couple had passed us on the corner but after a few paces, they turned around, walked back, and asked us: “Do you need help? Are you lost?” Why yes, in fact we were! We showed them our directions and they chattered away in Danish, talking about a bar that was on the corner of our destination street. They pointed us in the right direction, and once again we wandered off in hopes of success.

When we got to the plaza near our house, we searched for someone to ask, since the couple had suggested we do so when we got closer. I popped my head into the closest kebab, where a number of young men were waiting for a late-night snack or meal. I shyly asked the person closest to me, in English, if he knew where the street I was looking for was, and the storefront quickly became a buzz of discussion. One of the guys explained to me where it was while a number of others caught my eye and pointed in the proper direction.

Enter: Amber and Lauren to the apartment.

FINALLY. It takes a village (of very nice Danish people).

This not-so-short anecdote is just a small snippet of how kind and helpful all of the Danish people we met were. Honestly, the whole weekend was incredible. The euro to krone conversion definitely did not work in our favor, but even as we were shelling out 25€ for lunch, we were completely enchanted. The brisk air was constantly balanced by the warm sun, reminding us of the mythical perfect Michigan spring day and providing a constant comfort as we meandered through the city. We were amazed at the abundance of high-quality activities that we could partake in in the city, and we contentedly settled on doing just half of them since we both vowed to return. For the first time in my life I visited a city that I wanted to live in forever… we had to push ourselves not to “miss” our flights back to Madrid.

But before I make you all want to book the next flight out to Copenhagen, let me tell you about a few of the experiences that made our trip such a hit…

After arriving at the airbnb, we headed out for dinner at Nørrebro Bryghus (the neighborhood's brewery) across the street. Our waiter sat us down and handed us menus to "look over", which was literally all we could do. Look over, not read. Having already established with the waiter that we didn’t speak Danish, we figured that if he gave us Danish menus, it was because they didn’t have English menus. So, we struggled through a few of the descriptions, identifying a few words and figuring we would just ask him for suggestions when he came back.

Tall, blonde, attractive, perfect English-speaking waiter: Did you get a chance to look over the menu?
Amber: Welllllll, we don’t speak Danish.
Waiter: Yes, but did you get a chance to look over the menu?
Amber: We don’t speak Danish… we looked at it, but…
Lauren: The menu is in Danish.
Waiter: Oh, I’m so so sorry! I didn’t mean to give you-my mistake-I’m so sorry I’ll go get you… (continues on with countless apologies).
Lauren: No, we’re sorry! We wish we could speak Danish! We did come to Denmark, we should be expected to know something.
Waiter: No, no.. I’m so sorry, I’ll go get you…

Summary of the meal: Delectable scallops, melt-in-your-mouth beef chuck, impeccable service. It wasn't necessary to know a word of Danish.

On Friday morning, Lauren and I hit up a highly recommended café down the street from our apartment to make our plan of attack. The service continued to astound: "Cappuccino? Small or large? What type of milk? Whole, low fat, or skim? 1.5%, 2%, or 3%? Single or double shot? For here or to go? Cocoa powder?" This is slightly different than the brusk “Dime” (Tell me) that you get from most Spanish bartenders. Then again, in Spain a café con leche will run you €1,50 at a nice bar; our 39 krone cappuccino meant that we had to savor our all €5,25 of our beverage as a special treat.

The coffee

Our map with the anticipation of a 4.2 star, “Will return” TripAdvisor review for the little mermaid statue

Lauren, hard at work or hardly working?

We spent the late morning and afternoon wandering around, enjoying the city...

“Slumming it” with the bacon wrapped hot dog (served in a bread pocket) from the street stand. But man, did they offer customer service! Bacon? Big dog or small dog? Crispy bacon or normal bacon? Ketchup? Mustard? Mayo?

In the land of Tiger!

Lunch: Veal cheek with green onion and cherry tomatoes

One of the canals

A small church on the way to the Little Mermaid statue

I want to be, where the people are // I want to see, want to see ‘em dancing…

Watching the sunset in the park

Dinner: 5 types of herring from the only restaurant that disappointed us in Copenhagen. We trusted the 4 stars on TripAdvisor, but we should have known when it was located right along the most touristy canal that it wasn’t a local favorite.

On Saturday morning, we got up with the plan of making the most of our 24 hour Copenhagen Tourist pass. We knew we wanted to visit the Louisiana, the world-renowned modern art museum just outside of the city, and we had read online that you would save money by buying the Tourist pass since both the train and museum would come included. But we decided to go big before going home, so we first checked out Our Church of the Savior, a church in the south of the city.

The tower

At the top!

A chandelier inside

From the church, we headed to the train station, and stopped at a pastry shop to grab some grub along the way.

A gourmet pop-tart

After eating our “pop-tart” and other snacks at the bus stop, we finally realized that the yellow sign posted on the bus stop was telling us (in Danish) that the buses weren’t running because of all of the people that would be running the World Championship Half-Marathon.

The top runners from all over the world, moments before the start gun went off

So Lauren and I walked across the city, weaving through the thousands of people who were jogging, stretching, and peeing in preparation for the big run. We watched the first group take off and then continued on our way to the train station, where we boarded a regional train to Humleback, the stop where the Louisiana is located.

Walking into the sculpture garden at the Louisiana... the land on the other side is Sweden!

One of my favorite pieces was this series of icons, titled: The Inventor of the Steam Engine, The Inventor of the Gravitational Constant, The Inventor of Electricity, The Inventor of the Synthesis of Nitrogen, The Inventor of the Third Law of Thermodynamics. Lauren goes, “Also known as Jesus….” This artist also framed a piece of stained fabric and called it: Yellow with fat and beeswax. Gotta love an artist with a sense of humor, right?

Just one of many rooms that integrated nature into the design of the museum building

On our journey back to Copenhagen, the sun began to set and the sky filled with the warm colors of an almost cloudless sunset. The trees rushed by and I settled into my book having one of those moments of: WOW. How did I ever get this opportunity? Quickly remembering that these were unwarranted blessings, not well-earned rewards, I thanked God and took a few deep breaths, letting the stillness and peacefulness of Hope College’s “Be” chapels wash over me.

Be still, and know that I am God.
Be still, and know that I am.
Be still, and know.
Be still.
Be.

 Psalm 46:10

The trees slowly disappeared though and Lauren and I arrived back in the city's central station. We continued onward with our plans to check out the deli we had read about online, but had been turned away from the afternoon before because of its evening-only hours. When we arrived though, we found it was closed once again (Are the Danish the happiest people in the world because they don’t let their work hours inconvenience their social time?).

So, Lauren and I began the search for the perfect last supper, which became more like "Who has room at the inn?" We walked into about 7 restaurants, only to be turned down because we didn't have a dinner reservation. Mind you, one of those restaurants was a burger joint.

When we were finally welcomed in at a small, hidden wine bar, we ordered red wine and the only entree of the evening, which thankfully was delicious. The cozy evening was the perfect ending to such a beautiful day.

On Sunday morning, we woke up with plans of renting bikes and riding around the city to say farewell. However, after wandering halfway across the city only to find the bike shops closed, we decided it was better to just stroll along the river and eat a leisurely brunch.

A Danish danish!

Now THIS is brunch.

And it was good.

Much love, as always,

Amber

Fulbrighters, you continue to impress me.

Was it really as good as I remembered it? I doubted myself in the days leading up to Fulbright's mid-year seminar, constantly wondering if I was remembering the conference with rose-colored glasses. Last year I wrote in my blog about the intriguing presentations about mushroom hunting, indigenous languages in Spain and the U.S., and the connection between Dali's surrealism and the siesta. I recorded memories of a few days of intellectual enlightenment, rest from the day-to-day life at school, and interactions with truly amazing people. Could this year live up to all of that?

The answer:
Yes, sí, oui, ja.
Absolutely.

But first things first. Before I start raving about the seminar, I must give credit where credit is due: to the amazing staff at the Fulbright commission, Tory and Victoria.

From left to right: Tory (Fulbright program assistant), Victoria (Fulbright program officer), Lauren (co-mentor), and I (hopefully you know who I am) at our last meal of the Fulbright mid-year conference. Not a shabby backdrop either :)

After organizing Madrid's preliminary Global Classroom conferences this year, I realized how much work goes into all of the things we take for granted. Who printed all of our nametags and thought to make them double sided so that even if they got flipped around, we could read them? Who asked the university to set up the coffee breaks outside so that we could soak up some Vitamin D while we drank fresh-squeezed orange juice and coffee between sessions? Who figured out a schedule that would balance the variety of sessions with unique culinary experiences and transportation organization? Tory and Victoria, that's who.

They have helped all of us to make every process as easy as possible. They send us explanations of how to get our residence cards and forward us notifications about events in the city. They selflessly go above and beyond their job description so that we can feel at home and can make the most of our time here. Thankfully, from what I saw at mid-year, most of the Fulbrighters are not letting this opportunity go to waste.

At the mid-year seminar, researchers and ETAs gave 10 minute presentations that left me intrigued about the variety of experiences in Spain. A graduate student explained her studies of active and passive train crossing symbols, explaining the way human behavior forces transportation engineers to figure out ways to "protect us against ourselves". A Madrd ETA talked about her cooking classes and her experiences learning to cook typical Spanish dishes. (I congratulate her on having picked what I consider the best side project ever ;)) Another graduate student summarized her studies on trials of magic in Navarra and, using Victoria as an example, made us realize that a "witch" was really only based on what we agreed upon as a group, not what fit some academian's criteria. (A side note: this researcher also works in a castle.)

Lunches became continuations of these presentations; we were able to engage further with those who had presented and to hear from those who were too humble about their achievements to realize that they would have been interesting to share with the whole group.

Interestingly enough, humility and a sense of inadequacy were themes that I saw consistently throughout the three-day conference. Most presentations started off with a comment similar to:

• Sorry, this is a terrible PowerPoint presentation...
• Sorry, this was a dramatic presentation...
• Sorry, I'm not going to cook for you...
• Sorry, I lost my voice...
• Sorry, this is not as exciting as that last performance...

After a while, it began to bother me. Why are these incredible people apologizing so much?! They were entertaining us, enlightening us, engaging us. They had the guts to get up there in front of over 90 Fulbright scholars and talk about something they were passionate about, only to be asked incredibly complex questions about the deeper implications of their research. (These questions, though often impossible to answer, did show that the audience was listening!)

To all of you, I want to say thank you. Thank you for doing what I didn't have the guts to do in the past two years. Thank you for running the risk of over-simplifying your passion in order to share it with us. I know I only caught a glimpse of what you dedicate your life to, but I am thankful you put yourself out there so that I can better understand the varied interests of humanity.

Okay, okay, enough about that. We didn't sit in a lecture hall all seminar; we also got a chance to participate in one of 3 activities: a trip to the Oceanographic (aquarium), a guided tour of the Old Town, or a visit to a robotics lab at Universitat Politècnica de València. 

Since I had already been to the aquarium and am always up for learning more about the history of Spain, I chose the guided tour. Here's a bit of what we saw...

One of many views of the main cathedral

Princess (of Model UN) Lauren

The symbol of Valenica... LOL? ;)

 

One of many PG-13 figures outside buildings. These figures serve to remind people of what they should leave behind before entering the church. In our group, however, they just caused a lot of snickers.

Unfortunately, by mid-day Friday, it was time to say goodbye. Fortunately, the goodbye was softened by a scrumptious plate of paella and wall to wall windows overlooking the ocean.

PAELLA. SOOOOOO GOOD.

And with that, Lauren and I headed off to my next autonomous community, the Balearic Islands. 

I know what some of you are thinking: Islands? Spain has islands?!

Well, yes it does... TWO sets, in fact. The Canary Islands are located 100 km west of the border between Morocco and Western Sahara and the Balearic Islands are located just off the eastern coast of Spain. The location of Mallorca (one of the Balearic islands) made it a perfect place to visit after spending some time on the coast in Valencia.

When we arrived in Palma on Friday night, Lauren and I took a nighttime walk past the huge cathedral and through the main part of the city before stumbling onto (not out of) Wineing, a restaurant specializing in "tapas" of wine. There, rather than settling for a glass of house wine, Lauren and I ordered numerous catas (tastes) of local, national, and international wines. In the end, I stuck mostly to the Mallorcan wines, many of which are some variety of cabarnet, and all of which were quite good. But the best part was indulging in multiple wines that were 6-10 € a glass (Okay... in the states that isn't expensive, but here it's an outrage!) and commenting to Lauren about cedar notes as if I were a sophisticated winer and diner.

Then, Saturday morning, we set out to continue our tour of the center. But first, we had to have breakfast...

Ensaïmadas in Can Joan de S'Aigo

Ensaïmadas are pastries that are fried in a special pork lard, called saïm. They are best explained as a distant relative of the funnel cake, though I think they are better. (And I used to LOVE funnel cake.) It's possible Lauren and I ate ensaïmadas on 3 different occasions over the two days... so worth it.

After breakfast, we took a pleasant stroll along the water. It was a bit windy, but that just meant we could taste the salt of the sea on our lips even after walking away.

Pretty much my ideal Saturday morning

When you turned your back to the water, this is what you saw:

La Seu, the cathedral in Palma, Mallorca

The cathedral was quite impressive, especially for being on a modest-sized island. The style is Roman Gothic and, like many Spanish cathedrals, it is built on the site of a pre-existing mosque. The inside was done partly by Gaudi, whose influence you can see when you look at one of the main chapels, designed by a Mallorcan artist.

An underwater crucifix

The rest of the day was rather calm; Lauren and I had lunch, coffee, tea, and a snack, not so much because we were hungry or thirsty but because we allowed ourselves to check out cute cafés and bars whenever we felt so inclined.

A fire hydrant we found along the way

In one of the cafes, we read about the windmill museum and, thinking it would be a unique activity to partake in, we headed off to find it. Unfortunately, what we found was a museum that looked like it hadn't been opened in years. Fortunately, the windmills in the area were still there for our viewing pleasure.

Getting my Don Quijote on

On Sunday, we headed to Soller, a city on the northern coast of Mallorca.

A welcome sign in Soller

Oddly enough, all of the languages on this sign are quite necessary in Mallorca. Mallorca has (more than) its fair share of German and British retirees, making it difficult to know what language to speak to someone in. (Lauren and I were approached in German multiple times.) I'm used to forcing Spanish into conversations (Waiter speaks in English, Amber speaks in Spanish, Waiter in English, Amber in Spanish, Waiter in Spanish... WIN!) because otherwise most of the Spanish population would use me to practice their English. But a few times during the trip, I conceded to the waiter's English. Why? Because he or she was English or German and Spanish was just unnatural. GEH. European language dilemmas.

Anyway, to get to Soller, we took an old-fashioned train with a number of German retirees and young Mallorcan couples with their small children. We obviousl didn't fit either of the standard profiles, but we didn't mind.

On the train, before it got filled up

We took a pit-stop to check out the view of the mountains.

In Soller, we saw the cathedral and went to a modern art museum in an old house, where we ran into many of the German retirees that had been on our train. Actually, everywhere we went we ran into the German retirees that had come with us. 

Small town. Many tourists. Mostly German retirees.

The cathedral in Soller

Then, when we got to the Port de Sóller, Lauren and I had a glass of orange juice and people-watched for a bit.

Who names their boat "FOX"? Someone who loves Ylvis? 

After a relaxing afternoon and cup of café con leche (the Ana Botella joke is still going for my students...), we headed back on the train to Palma, where we packed up our stuff, had an early dinner (which was deemed socially acceptable because the Brits and Germans tend to eat earlier), and took the bus to the airport to catch our flight home.

When I finally arrived in my apartment at 2 AM on Monday morning (we had a late flight that got delayed), I was tired but joyful. After the unbelievable days I had spent with wonderful people in breathtaking places, what is there to complain about? Fulbright was such an unexpected gift two years ago when I found out that I received the grant, and here I am getting to repeat the experience. I honestly couldn't feel more blessed.

Much love from Spain,

Amber

The most wondeful time of the year.

Well, the holiday season has come and gone, and it's time for me to take the time to relive it here in my blog. Here we go...

Thanksgiving.

This past Thanksgiving, I tried to forget it. While I was in classes with students all day, I didn't want to be thinking about the fact that most of my family was together, eating sticky buns and turkey and pumpkin pie without me. So instead of thinking about it, I ignored it.

Before you start feeling sorry for me, I must tell you that my Thanksgiving was far from bad. Sure, the actual day was a bust (except for getting to skype in with the fam for a bit), but I had a fantastic Thanksgiving just a few days prior. Or should I say Thanksgivings.

Yes, in a country that does not celebrate Thanksgiving, on a day that was not Thanksgiving, I had TWO Thanksgiving dinners. I can't complain.

Thanksgiving #1

Who: Half of the Fulbright ETAs, teachers from the Fulbrighters' schools, representatives from the Conserjería de Educación, a few embassy folks, and... oh yeah, THE AMBASSADOR
Where: The ambassador's residence
When: Monday at typical Spanish lunchtime, typical American Thanksgiving dinnertime... 3:00 PM

I must say, I was pretty lucky to have gotten an invitation to this dinner! Last year, all of the Fulbrighters who weren't doing Global Classrooms (not me) got invited. This year, all of the Fulbrighters whose schools were new to Global Classrooms (not me) got invited. However, at some point, someone realized that I had been around for 2 years and had never gotten invited and added me to the list. Whoever that was, I want to publicly thank you. Really, thank you.

I took my camera to photograph my dinner (After all, how many times do you eat at the ambassador's house?), but got a little shy when I got seated at the same table as the ambassador's partner. I wasn't too sure it was socially acceptable to whip out a DSLR at a formal dinner to take pictures of what I was about to eat. But when one of the other ETAs pulled out her iPhone to do it, I decided to just go for it. Yes, I got a few laughs. But I also got a few snapshots to remember my delicious meal.

Turkey, green beans, cranberry relish, and stuffing... mmmmmmmmm!

Feeling official.

 It just wouldn't be Thanksgiving if you had to choose desserts.

 Lauren and I... Fulbright mentors!

 

  Oh yeah, then there was the time I was interviewed on Spanish National Television!

Well, I guess I have fulfilled my 15 minutes of fame for life. I got e-mails and texts for days afterwards, not to mention the weeks of students approaching me, confused, to verify that they really had seen their English teacher speaking Spanish on TV. I think I convinced half of them that I was on TV because I'm famous... sarcasm isn't too easy to detect in a second language. Anyway, if you want to check it out, click the link above and fast forward to 37:00, where the Thanksgiving clip starts.

Thanksgiving #2

Who: My house church and Carmen
Where: Chris & Kara's house
When: Monday at typical Spanish dinnertime... 9:00 PM

Six hours was just enough time to let the food rest and squeeze in a tutoring session before starting the Thanksgiving dinner process all over again. The tutoring session right before dinner #2 meant that I had to take my dish of baked corn into a bar with me, but I was feeling pretty proud of my American tradition and successfully ignored the stares that I got as I sat down with Mohammed to have some coffee and review his paper with a 9x13 pan of corn in front of me. Crazy American. (Yes, this is the same bar where I ran into the glass door. Seems like I'm only reinforcing their stereotype of me as a crazy American....)

The girls at the dinner table. The boys were passed out on the chairs and sofa.

Operación Niño de la Navidad // Operation Christmas Child.

Teaching at Ramiro de Maeztu for a second year has definitely made things easier. I know the best times to make photocopies, I can re-use some lesson plans from last year, and I am getting to know my students on a deeper level. It also made it easier to implement a few extra projects that I wanted to do, like Operation Christmas Child.

For those of you that don't know, Operation Christmas Child is a project run by the NGO Samaritan's Purse. The project consists of sending shoe boxes filled with gifts to children who would otherwise not receive a Christmas present; it is something that I have been doing since I was a little girl with my grandma. Samaritan's Purse has been doing it since 1993 in the U.S. and started it about 7 years ago in Spain. This year, my church in Madrid was a collection point and was trying to do more to involve community members in the project, so I decided I would present it to my students. The project was an absolute hit! At least 50 students were involved and the school packed 24 boxes.

One of my 2° (8th grade) students with the label they put on the top of the box. They had to choose niño (boy) or niña (girl) and an age range: 2-4, 5-9, or 10-14.

 Two more 2° (8th grade) students wrapping the box.

The wrapping process was a bit complicated for many of my students, who sometimes didn't bother to cut off excess paper but instead crumbled it up and put a few extra pieces of tape on the inside to keep it down. Thus, I spent every free hour in the jefe de estudios's office, unwrapping boxes to re-wrap them or fixing up poor tape jobs. But in the end, it was all worth it because they enjoyed the process and were eager to give to kids less fortunate than them during the holiday season.

 A few of the kids who were wrapping their boxes during the recreo.

Shoeboxes from Ramiro de Maeztu. Merry Christmas!

Christmas Cookie Exchange.

Christmas lends itself so well to sharing cultural customs, so I didn't stop with Operation Christmas Child; I decided to also do a Christmas cookie exchange. Over the past year, I have gotten a lot of positive feedback about my baking skills, so I decided it was only appropriate that I try to foster the skill in my students. 

The cookie exchange also went over well... I had 21 groups participate, each with 4 dozen cookies. That's over 80 dozen cookies in one room. I can't guarantee they were all edible, but they at least resembled cookies.

Setting the cookies up for the exchange

Students in line to get their first pick of cookies

Smiles all around! They must not have gotten the blue, flour-flavored or break-a-tooth-rock-hard cookies that I ended up with ;)

A photo contest.

Right before Christmas, Carmen's work had a photo contest on diversity. Carmen wanted to do something working with people, who together create something. So, we copied my idea from Thanksgiving last year to make a tree, with handprints serving as leaves, each with something written on it related to the person as a diverse individual. In the end, Carmen didn't win, but it was a fun afternoon spent getting to meet different people in our neighborhood.

Some kids in action

The end result... if nothing else, it made the bus stop a little more interesting :)

Christmas.

AWESOME. 'Nuf said.

Wedding shower.

After all of the hustle and bustle of a wonderful Christmas, Mom, Ashley (Ali's best friend from high school), and I set to work preparing for Ali's bridal shower...

 

We spent hours making those cookies! Good thing they were super cute!

 

Mom made the table runners and Ashley made the crafty little mason jars as decorations.

All of the girls of the Fre-Rogers clan at the shower. It's crazy to think that our youngest member is so grown up!

These are just a few of the pictures that I showed my Spanish co-workers in an effort to explain a completely foreign tradition. When they finally got an understanding of it, one said, "No, we don't have that here." Another responded, "Not yet, but just wait until Cortes Inglés hears about it."

Although the day was filled with love and excitement for preparing Ali for her future with Mike, it is true that Corte Inglés (Spain's department store) will probably promote the tradition here and turn it into a consumerist, second-rate version of a very special celebration. This has absolutely happened before; on the 9:00 PM news on Thanksgiving (a different version than the one that is linked above), the Thanksgiving dinner clip was cut short and they spent twice the amount of time covering Black Friday, which is a new tradition in Spain. Awesome. I think Spaniards would be happier if they had imported the tradition of eating turkey with their families and being thankful for all they have. But that's not the best promotional event for going shopping....

Farm show.

Oh, the Pennsylvania farm show... yet another difficult concept to explain to Spaniards. The PA farm show is the largest indoor agricultural exposition in the nation and you can tell. When we first entered, we walked past a cornbox filled with children (like a sandbox but instead of sand, it was filled with corn), and then around a giant butter sculpture before we found ourselves in a maze of "First prize canned peaches" and 6,000 animals. Then, of course, there was the mix of real cowboys/cowgirls and wanna-be cowboys/cowgirls, who milled around the tractors with actual interest while younger versions of my sister and I tried to see how many kids they can fit in the wheels of the largest John Deers.

A rather fashion-forward chicken

But let's be honest, anyone who isn't competing for first-prize goat or vying for an award in the high school rodeo goes for one reason: THE FOOD. (I'm taking my gastro-tourism tendencies stateside.)

Milkshakes made by the PA Dairymen's Association? Delicious.

Potato donuts made by the PA Cooperative Potato Growers, Inc.? Scrumptious.

Maple syrup made by the PA Maple Syrup Producers Council? Delightful. (Especially for some Saturday morning pancakes in Spain!)

What could be better than PA's finest banding together to sell their best products in one food court? Not much. I had been waiting to repeat this experience since 2011 and I must say, it was just as wonderful as I remember it.

You won't ever find a milkshake as good as this one.

Friends and family.

And last, but not least, I got to spend time with my wonderful family and great friends. I spent a morning in NYC and ate a Levain cookie with Hanah. I played game after game (Ticket to Ride, Seven Wonders, Bananagrams, Quirkle, Dominion, Pandemic... if you don't know these, you obviously aren't a serious game person) with my siblings. I spent a morning listening to my grandfather's stories and eating waffles that my grandmother made in her mother's waffle iron. I went on a date with my Dad. I had tea with Natalie. I sat around the fire with my family while the snow blanketed our backyard. I gave hugs to my niece and nephew. I rapped a song at Ali's and Mike's engagement party. I stuffed myself with the food that my mom made (main ingredient: love) and remembered what it's like to eat around a family table instead of at my desk alone in my room. I enjoyed all of the moments that some people tire of because they get to experience them on a daily basis. And it was good.

Nanny and A, on A's 5th birthday

The Rogers girls and Firestine girls

(Please note Phoebe photo-bombing in the bottom right hand corner.)

Tami reading to B on the other side of the Christmas tree

It really was the most wonderful time of the year.

Much love,
Amber