Sunday paella

What a day!

On Friday, I received a message from Marga, the head of the English department at my instituto, inviting me over for paella Sunday afternoon. Delighted with receiving the text, of course I responded by saying something along the lines of “absolutely!” She gave me a call on Saturday afternoon, and we arranged that she would come pick me up around 11:30 Sunday morning, after which we would go on a tour of a couple site in the countryside before heading back for paella.

Well, I had nothing less than a blast as soon as she and her family arrived. Accompanied by her husband and two adorable boys, Marga brought me out into the countryside, where we visited two sites in the vicinity of Almansa. First was the pantano, apparently the oldest reservoir in Europe (maybe the world?) that’s still in use. It dates back to the Roman times, and you can note the changes it went through as it was passed through the hands of the Romans, the Moors, and the Christians. Until very recently, it hadn’t been cleaned in a really long time and had many feet worth of muck at the bottom, but within the last few years, heavy machinery was brought in and the entire reservoir dredged. Since it has rained more than usual over the last couple of years, there are now 13 meters of water and it’s opened up from time to time when need be.

Then we went to see the Sanctuario de la Virgen de Belén. I don’t really remember much of the story of how it came to be (or maybe I just didn’t catch it in the first place), but the chapel was pretty, although I was kind of weirded out by the offerings in the back left by people for the virgin. For example, if someone was praying for a family member or friend who had injured his leg, this person may have left a note accompanied by a small plastic or wax leg. Or let’s say, for example, someone needed her back to be cured. She may have left a back brace hanging for the virgin. I don’t know. I thought it was kind of creepy. But maybe that’s just me.

After our little excursion, the whole gang (Marga, her husband, the kids, his brother, his brother’s girlfriend (who, incidentally is a French teacher), and me) headed back to their house for Sunday lunch. Marga having admitted to not being a particularly good cook, we made a quick side trip to a small restaurant in town that, according to Marga, has the best paella in town. It was quite amusing as her husband sat in the back seat, gripping the huge paella pan with cardboard and lifting the hot meal high above his lap.

In typical Spanish style, we didn’t begin to eat until about 3:00 pm, at which point we continued to munch and chat well until 6:00 or so. Paella is one of those specialties of this country that I will never get tired of. It’s got everything all crammed into one big dish: rice, vegetables, [this one had] chicken. So good.

The extended family left after we finished eating, but I hung around and let the elder boy Hugo teach me how to play a board game. But when Hector, the other, insisted on playing by his own rules, the game sort of just fell apart and we just moved our pieces every which way.

What was really cute was that the boys kept asking if I was going to stay there, to which Marga replied that there was no room for me to stay. Hugo took it very seriously, and when I said I was sure to see them again soon, he would say, “Sí, ¿pero cuándo?” as if he doubted that it would actually happen.

I’ve never been one to really appreciate children. But these two were nothing less than adorable. Maybe it’s just that I’ve never given little kids a chance?

Next we all went to the park, and we adults sat and had a drink while the boys played the the other children. It was about 8:45 when we were finally heading back for good, at which point I eventually split ways with the family and headed up the street towards my apartment.

I knew I must have been smiling big when I came in because Clare said, “Must’ve had a great day” when I saw her.

And it was true, I sure did have a great day.