8 delightful things we learned about Spanish culture
We did our best to get settled as quickly as possible after moving to Spain. This included learning and adapting to the local culture and discovering some of the most delightful things about living here. I will likely end up writing an individual article about many of these; there’s just so much to say…
1) Quality of life is paramount
All Spanish citizens and residents are entitled to quality of life and access to culture (it’s even in their constitution). Every city, small town, and even tiny village has a doctor, dentist, pharmacy, market, library, poliesportiu (sports center and pool), and casa de cultura (house of culture). If the community is too small to support these things, they are government-subsidized.
We are fortunate here in Barx (pop. 1200) to enjoy not only the usual indoor casa de cultura, but to also have a lovely amphitheater, where we’ve seen everything from flamenco to American-style, big band swing. Most shows are free. The most we’ve ever paid was €8 at the casa de cultura in Gandia, and those were performances by world-class musicians.
2) Meals are not just for eating
There’s a concept here in Spain called sobremesa (upon the table). It is the Spanish tradition of relaxing at the table after a meal. Whether at lunch or dinner, your table is yours. In most restaurants, there is no second seating. Servers aren’t impatiently waiting for diners to leave so they can “turn the table” and earn more tips.
Usually, the main meal is lunch, with the evening meal more often being tapas (appetizers) shared by everyone. One of our favorite things about lunch is the Menú del Día, which includes a choice of a first course, second course, dessert, and drink (including beer or wine), for a set price. This was started during the Franco era to ensure everyone could have an affordable midday meal. In Gandia, the typical price for a Menú del Día is €8–12.
We often eat lunch in Gandia while running errands. The paseo is lined with cafes that feature delicious Menús del Día and shady outdoor seating. It’s hard to want to cook with lunch options like this!
3) Afternoon “siesta” is a thing
Almost all stores, tourist sites, pharmacies, etc. close for 3 or 3–1/2 hours in the afternoon, although restaurants stay open. It’s not technically a siesta, because not everyone settles down for a nap (although some do). It’s a time for those who work to get an afternoon break and spend time with family. Schools close during the same hours so kids can head home or to a favorite restaurant to join their parents.
At 1:00 the paseo in Gandia is bustling and lively with people. Thirty minutes later, it feels like a ghost town. There are people sitting in the many sidewalk restaurants, but the crowds are gone and almost everything else is closed. Around 4:00, shop owners reopen their doors, display carts are rolled back outside, and the sidewalks again fill with people. Most places then stay open until 7 or 8 in the evening.
It’s disconcerting at first, and can also be frustrating for those of us used to running errands in the afternoon. I definitely had to adjust my expectations. Now that I’ve grown used to it, I like it. It encourages everyone to slow down and relax more.
4) Spanish people are amazingly kind
One of our first experiences after we moved was in a small cafe in Barx. Restaurants bring a tapa when you order your drinks. At this particular cafe, it was a bowl of peanuts.
I’m determined to learn Spanish, so I asked the waitress, “Como se dice?” (how do you say, one of my key phrases) as I pointed to the peanuts. She smiled and answered, “Cacahuete.”
“¿Que?” I responded.
We went back and forth, she patiently saying the word again and again, slowly and clearly, me doing my best to repeat. When I got it right, she clapped and said “¡Muy buena!” She then turned to Eric and said, in English, “Now you!” He nailed it, of course, having listened and learned from my many attempts.
This has been our experience everywhere, every time. Even my bumbling attempts at speaking Spanish are met with patience, kindness, and a willingness to help in any possible way.
5) Everything is so clean
Spain isn’t the only clean country, of course. What we found, though, was how participatory the task is—how much everyone seems to care. Cities have whole crews of people whose job is to clean the streets and sidewalks. After public events, hordes of little street sweeper vehicles seemingly come out of nowhere, and within an hour everything is back to pristine. Even in our small community, there are three employees who hand-sweep the streets and sidewalks. We see them on our street every 3–4 weeks.
And it isn’t just paid city staff who take time to keep things clean. We frequently see shop owners and people who live in flats (apartments) in front of their buildings with mops and buckets, scrubbing walls, stoops, windows, and even the public sidewalk.
Is there graffiti? Of course. That seems to be ubiquitous these days. But I will say that “taggers” seem to restrict their “art” to abandoned buildings, retaining walls, concrete culverts, etc. I’ve never seen graffiti on historic buildings/sites and only a couple of times on occupied buildings.
6) Celebrating life is a big deal
Most festivals were banned during the Franco era. When that ended, Spaniards revived their festivals and holidays with gusto. I couldn’t begin to list everything that occurs just in our region, let alone Spain-wide. There seems to be one (or more) every week. Some are typical of anywhere—small town festivals that celebrate a founder or key historical event, religious holidays, political/historical commemorations, etc. Then there are those that are uniquely Spanish. In the Valencia region alone, these include:
- Las Falles de València — 750+ giant (up to 98 feet/30 meters tall), elaborate wooden monuments that take a year to complete and are all burned to the ground in one night
- La Tomatina—20,000 people squeezed into four city blocks throw 150,000 ripe tomatoes (40 metric tons) at each other for an hour
- Moros y Cristianos—Thousands of volunteers in fancy period costumes re-enact battles and parade through town in commemoration of the Reconquista, or reconquest when the Christians took Spain from the Moors in the 13th century
- Batalla de Flores—Elaborately decorated floats pass up and down a street, as crowds on either side throw more than a million yellow marigolds at their occupants, who, in turn, use small racquets to whack the flowers back into the crowd
- El Tío de la Porra—Hundreds of people dress as the uncle with the baton (in 19th century military uniforms and with black-rimmed glasses and fake noses) and beat drums as they walk the streets of the city
Most of the festivals also include elaborate parades, and many of those are up to four hours long. We learned it was well worth paying €5 for a chair along the parade route.
7) Art is everywhere
Spaniards love art. There are, of course, hundreds of museums and art galleries across the country, but there is also public art, literally everywhere. Not only is there art scattered through parks, along beaches, and spaced along paseos, we’ve found art tucked on quiet streets, along the highway, and on almost every roundabout. It’s so refreshing to see art for art’s sake. There’s no admission fee, no reservations required. It’s just… there.
8) Courtesy and compassion are common
There is an actual law compelling people to stop and render aid in the case of a road accident. Even without that law, however, I truly believe Spanish people would stop anyway.
One day we witnessed a woman in Gandia fall off her bicycle while turning a corner. No one honked in impatience because she had blocked the intersection. Drivers simply waited. A dozen people ran from every direction to help her. One man used his jacket to make her a pillow. Another moved her bike out of the way. Others helped direct traffic. One woman held her hand and gently patted her shoulder. Everyone stayed until the ambulance arrived.
We’ve seen this type of situation more than once. We have an American friend who personally experienced it when she tripped on a sidewalk and fell, gashing her head. She spoke almost no Spanish, but the language barrier didn’t matter.
Are there things in Spain I wish was different? Of course. No place is 100% perfect. I can say, though, that Spain is as close as anyplace I’ve ever been. I am absolutely happy and content living here. The above, as well as dozens more things, are the reasons why.
