|Getting the Job Done|
Everyone came to town for Holy Week, so the Asociacion Cultural gathered itself together.
It was decided somewhere among the grand families of the Plaza Mayor that we'd meet after the Stations of the Cross. And so, thus focused on our many transgressions, as well as the suffering and death of our Savior and his Mum, we ruled against meeting in the back of the church.
It's too echoey in there. Impossible to make out who is talking, especially when everybody talks at the same time. Which is just about always.
I was the founding president of the Asociacion, but I stepped down last year after two seasons of Big Fun and cultural disconnects. We started some good things, mistakes were made, and a few people sneer and roll their eyes every time my name is mentioned. But that's the price you pay. You can tell a pioneer by the tomahawks sticking out of his head.
So we gathered outside Vitoriana's house, on the corner of the plaza. Some of us sat right down on the pavement, or stood dangerously near to Leandra's prize tulips. Lucy, the new president, presided.
"What do we want to do for this summer? Another Semana Cultural?"
"Yeah! Last year was fun. Let's do that again!"
"Let's do what again? Which part was fun?"
"The movie night. Let's get that giant screen in here again!"
"That giant screen was a pain. Try keeping the kids away from that."
"We had to drive back and forth to Villada to pick it up and return it. And we had to put it up and take it down."
"And we had to sign a million papers to borrow it," I added.
"Let's do like they did here in the old days, when someone brought a projector and a movie. Hang up a sheet on that wall over there, and project it on that."
"Forget the sheet. The wall is whitewashed."
"Where would the electricity come from?"
"Extension cord. We have those. Jesus!"
"Don't be that way."
"What movies will we show? The movies last year were lame."
"Those are details. We can work that out later. Let's decide what else..."
"Let's do another tortilla contest!"
"Let's do desserts instead this time. We already did tortillas. We know whose is best now."
"But that will spoil everyone's dinner."
"How about we have a flan contest. Flan, and orijuelas. We all know how..."
"So how about tapas?" I said. "Appetizers? Pinchos?"
"Yeah! Let's do pinchos! Everyone loves those!"
"Yeah! Pinchos, and desserts."
"Let's have a proper prize, like 50 Euros. We'd get some people over from San Nicolas then, attract attention from outside,"
"Fifty euros? How about a nice bottle of wine?"
"San Nicolas? The heck with San Nicolas! What do they have to do with this?"
"And let's have a camp-out for the kids, over in the grove."
"We were going to do that last year, but the moms were afraid to let the kids stay out there."
"No, the mothers weren't afraid. The kids were afraid."
"No we weren't! It rained! You wouldn't let us because it rained!"
"OK then. Let's also have an excursion. We can tour the Sunflower Seed Factory in Villada!"
"We can get a bus and go to Astorga, and tour around and have Cocido Maragato!"
"Astorga's too far! What's in Astorga?"
"Everyone will have to pay his own way. The Asociacion can't pay for it."
"Well, of course!"
"And we ought to do something cultural. Like a workshop, or a dance group or something."
"How about we make up some adobes? Mud and straw don't cost anything."
"Yeah! We have brick molds!"
"Sounds pretty messy. Who's going to lead that? Who knows anything about adobe?"
"Rebekah does. She goes to those workshops every year. "
"Rebekah can do it. Can't you?"
"Yes," I said. "We'll make slurry, and all you guys can render the inside walls of my bodega!"
(Slave labor, hooray!)
"So we have all these things to do! What fun!" Lucy said.
"And flowers. Shall we plant flowers again this year? Can I spend 50 euros on flowers for the plaza?" I asked. "It's almost May, almost time to plant."
"Not so many this year. Not enough of us are here all summer. Milagros ended up watering them herself every day," came the slap-down I've been expecting for months.
"Also, sometime in the summer let's think about a wine-tasting night. Everyone bring a bottle from the region where they live -- Vittoria, Burgos, Coruna, Gran Canaria -- and we'll line them all up and taste them and see what we think,"I suggested.
"We can do that with the pinchos! We can do pairings!" said one well-educated cousin.
"No, I mean this as something separate from the Semana Cultural. Not a contest," I tried.
"We can bring the wine, and create a pincho to match,"she insisted.
"What, wine with flan? What the hell? This contest is getting out of hand!"
"Whatever. We'll see. This is just the start."
We were there, we were opinionated, but we got some things figured. We were Angelines, Florin, Leandra, Carlos, Ines, Raul, Cristi, Olaya, Timia, Luci, Milagros, Conchi, Ester, Other Carlos, Judit, Raquel, and me.
Plenty enough to get some culture done.
We have four months to work on it.