Unforgettable Things I’ve Learned From Spanish Culture About Food, Life and Love
You Need To Have A Work/Life Balance
Time is sacred in the United States. Time is sacred because time is money.
In Spain, time is not sacred, life is sacred. Time is not sacred to the Spanish because they believe there is time for everything. There is enough time for family, time for friends of course, time for work.
Their priorities are different, though; there’s much more of an emphasis on being social and enjoying life.
On any given Tuesday night, you can stroll through the center of Madrid and find the streets bustling with people. The bars and restaurants will be full of families and friends who are staying out until two in the morning and still have to work the next day. You hardly find people staying out until two in Boston on a Saturday.
Life is slower here.
People walk slower, they eat slower. (Unfortunately, they don’t talk slower, which is very much to my detriment, but that’s a topic for another day.)
The common saying in Spain is “Work to live, don’t live to work.” Yes, work is important, but why do we work? We work so that we can live, so that we can enjoy life.
Besides, what’s the point of being the richest person in the graveyard?
According to most of the Spaniards I’ve spoken to, there isn’t much of a point at all.
Food Is Definitely Sacred
In Spanish culture, food is also sacred. Taking the time to prepare a meal is sacred. Taking the time to relax, enjoy and share food with your friends and family is sacred.
It’s not just food for food’s sake, but for the sake of sharing and celebrating.
This integral part of food in Spanish culture is referred to as “Sobremesas” which literally means “above the table.” Sobremesas is the art of taking your time while eating and engaging in conversation during and after the meal, often for hours at a time.
I recently went to my Spanish friend’s house for lunch in the north of Madrid. We started eating and got lost in conversation. When I checked my phone I realized we had been sitting, eating and talking for five hours straight.
Even the “Tapas” culture, which are small appetizers or servings of Spanish cuisine, seems to be centered around sharing and socializing. Instead of receiving just one main entrée, you’re brought several different smaller plates of food which everyone shares. In that way, the meal lasts longer so you can drink and socialize more.
In the United States, we’re anxious to get to the restaurant. Once we sit down at our table we’re anxious for the food. Once we’re done eating we’re anxious for the check. The waiter or waitress is usually keen on getting it to us as soon as possible.
In Spain, I have yet to have the waitstaff bring me a check without having to ask for it. Why? Because they wouldn’t dare intrude on you. It’s just not a part of the culture.
In Spain, when you ask for a coffee in a cafe, you’re going to be given a nice cup with a saucer. You’re expected to sit down and enjoy it. You have to specifically ask for it, otherwise.
A Spaniard named Paco once told me that when he goes to the United States and he sees people running down the street with coffee in a to-go cup, he pities them. He pities them because that person is so busy that he or she doesn’t have the time to sit down and enjoy it.
It’s safe to say that food is a lifestyle here, but it goes much deeper than that. They say the national religion of Spain is Catholicism, but from what I’ve seen, that can’t possibly be true.
— Other than fútbol, food is the religion here.
All For One, One For All
I was at a TEDx talk in Madrid with my Spanish friend, Laura, who is currently completing her masters degree in aerospace engineering in Madrid.
I asked her about her experience as a young person living, studying and working in Spain.
“Do you feel the pressure in the same way young Americans do?” I asked.
Her response:
“I feel free.”
Not free as in democratically free, which she obviously is.
Free as in free of the crushing weight of student loans. Laura’s masters degree costs roughly $3,000 a year.
Free as in free of the absurd costs of private health care. In Spain, healthcare is universal. In the United States, my father, being self-employed, has to pay $2,700 a month in health insurance for our family.
In one month, my father has to pay almost as much in healthcare as one year of Masters Degree tuition for Laura.
I pressed Laura further on Spanish healthcare:
“It’s a very different point of view from [the] USA. [The Spanish] say that we’re all in the same boat, and we all have to row in the same direction so the ship keeps moving . . . it’s [everyone’s] issue, you can’t be selfish.”
In the United States, everyone pays for their own boat. A small minority owns either a yacht or a speedboat, while most of us are straggling along in canoes and rowboats. The United States healthcare system is second to none — if you can afford it. But that’s a very big if. The same goes for education.
Everyone in Spain pays taxes that contribute to universal healthcare, education and other social programs. But these are accessible even if you don’t pay your taxes. The corner office lawyer or banker and the unemployed grandmother see the same doctor and receive the same quality of medical care.
So maybe it’s safety nets like universal healthcare, education and pensions that allow Spaniards like my friend Laura to feel “free.” Or maybe it’s just cultural conditioning.
Either way it’s interesting to note, being an American myself, I’ve heard us say lots of things:
“I feel overworked. I feel stressed. I feel tired.”
But not once have I heard an American say, “I feel free.”
The United States may have the technological progress, robust economy, the GDP, and the abundant natural resources, but are we “free?”
I guess it depends on your tax bracket.
The Power Of Affection
The culture of the United States teaches you a lot of things, but it doesn’t teach you how to love.
The Spanish know how to love — and I don’t mean just romantically. I’m talking specifically about platonic love; a friendly love.
When you meet a Spaniard of the opposite sex, even for the first time, you’ll typically greet each other with a kiss on both cheeks (granted it’s usually not an actual kiss). This type of forthright gesture tends to catch most Americans completely off guard, as if to evoke the response “how dare you violate my bubble of personal safety.”
Admittedly, at first it caught me off guard as well.
You’ll also often see groups of friends, both boys and girls alike, holding hands or putting their arms around each other. All without the homophobic subtext that you tend to find in the United States.
There are, of course, the egregious public displays of affection which, once in a while, can verge on public displays of fornication. When two young Spaniards love one other and are out in public, you’re going to know about it. But even that has an innocence and sense of defiance about it.
They’re comfortable with who they are and how they feel. They love without reservation. We’re just not used to seeing that in the United States, but then again, our country was first settled by Puritans.
The Spanish are touchy — literally. You’ll often find them touching you on the arm, shoulder or back while talking to you, even if they don’t know you personally. The other day I was riding on the metro, and the train made an abrupt stop and I accidentally bumped into a man standing to my right. “Perdon” I said as I readjusted myself. He looked at me, smiled, put his hand on my shoulder and said “No pasa nada tío.”
But if not to express sexual undertones, then why? Because it’s an act of affection. It’s an expression of tenderness, trust and intimacy. It’s because human touch is essential.
People in the United States and Great Britain tend to be starved for affection; we have the strongest personal boundaries. It’s as if we have an invisible force field around us that signals: don’t come too close. In Spain, those personal boundaries are much more transparent.
As an American, it’s taken me awhile to acclimate, but I’ve come to appreciate the closeness; even love it.
And while I by no means plan on kissing strangers on both cheeks or encroaching on anyone’s personal space when I return stateside, I’ll never be able to forget the power of human touch.
Closing Thoughts
There’s a contentment here; a grace even. And I’ve not experienced it elsewhere. It’s written all over their faces. It’s in the way they walk. It’s in the way they move. I can see it in their smile and feel it in their touch.
But are people actually happier in Spain than the United States? It’s difficult to say, I’ve only lived here for four months.
But there’s one thing that becomes clearer to me everyday:
No one knows how to relax and enjoy life quite like the Spanish.
