
<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126974602_175b932a40_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Halloween Spirits">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126974602_3d3c949e0d_t.jpg" alt="Halloween Spirits"/>
</a>

It's that time of year again, time for wool sweaters and pumpkin carving. Like the [previous](/2008/10/31/halloween-traditions/) [two](/2009/10/30/pumpkin-carving-2009/) years, my friend Andrés hooked us up with a lovely gourd specimen to carve. Nora had a lot of fun with the pumpkin this year. We invited over our four-year-old neighbor, Oscar (who happens to be Andrés' nephew), to participate in the autumnal festivities. I did get Oscar to put his hand into the pumpkin and feel the slimy innards once, but after that he preferred to play with Nora's toys, which were all new to him, and watch from afar. He brought over his own little pumpkin to carve too, so Marga got her first carving experience, which she thoroughly enjoyed.  Before it was time to start carving, I did some rough sketches to choose a look for my pumpkin this year. After I drew the first one, it looked a little familiar, so I pulled up [the blog entry from last year](/2009/10/30/pumpkin-carving-2009/), and doggone if it wasn't the same exact design as last year. I had to break out of my angry-two-teeth artistic phase and tread on some new ground. I ended up choosing a favorite design of my mother's, the shifty-eyed jack-o-lantern.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126656714_9def7bc857_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Lobotomy Patient">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126656714_53015a543c.jpg" alt="Lobotomy Patient"/>
</a>

Lobotomy patient.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126056901_3ca6c2c664_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Cleaning Pumpkin Innards">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126056901_8ebab8c7cf.jpg" alt="Cleaning Pumpkin Innards"/>
</a>

Definitely _not_ who you want performing your lobotomy.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126082959_aa4c7b10ed_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Cleaning Pumpkin Innards">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126082959_434e818a8a.jpg" alt="Cleaning Pumpkin Innards"/>
</a>

The look on Marga's face here is absolutely perfect!

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126104575_a4f627c889_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Went for silly face this year">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126104575_5deb15870a.jpg" alt="Went for silly face this year"/>
</a>

I went with the happy shifty-eye for 2010.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126092851_90b9fdc37d_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Mini-Jacko">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126092851_92f69ccffd.jpg" alt="Mini-Jacko"/>
</a>

Marga's jack-o-lantern was much more sinister.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126702808_b1735bf877_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Oscar and his jack-o-lantern">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126702808_85b55be937.jpg" alt="Oscar and his jack-o-lantern"/>
</a>

Oscar acting scared of his pumpkin.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126256101_53066f68ce_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Oscar and Jack-o-lantern">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126256101_ab12df2620.jpg" alt="Oscar and Jack-o-lantern"/>
</a>

He preferred playing with the finished product more than the actual cleaning and carving. His face was banged up from a fíºtbol match the day before.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126879350_1f57b3224f_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Nora and Oscar Halloween 2010">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126879350_50ff68e5e4.jpg" alt="Nora and Oscar Halloween 2010"/>
</a>

I got a pretty good series of shots of Oscar and Nora playing with the pumpkins.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126279165_762b9604a3_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Nora and Oscar Halloween 2010">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126279165_cedc3d4fd5.jpg" alt="Nora and Oscar Halloween 2010"/>
</a>

Nora doing her jack-o-lantern face.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126886236_8153445e50_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Nora and Oscar Halloween 2010">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126886236_58ebe5a2e5.jpg" alt="Nora and Oscar Halloween 2010"/>
</a>

While clearly fascinated by Oscar, Nora didn't really want to spend any time alone with him. He's had good practice with his one-month-old sister and was very tender with Nora.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126297103_020aa91b5c_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Grim and Happy">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126297103_3d787c1200.jpg" alt="Grim and Happy"/>
</a>

Grumpy and Smily.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126904180_cd48edf49a_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="The Gourdhead Brothers">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126904180_855fc10fb2.jpg" alt="The Gourdhead Brothers"/>
</a>

The Gourdhead Brothers.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126311915_f72bd97783_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Pumpkin Halo">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126311915_e4ab4b8b24.jpg" alt="Pumpkin Halo"/>
</a>

The cool halo shot I discovered [last year](/2009/10/30/pumpkin-carving-2009/).

This year I had the idea to use my LED flashlight to do some [Tinkerbell lighting](/2008/03/20/tinkerbell-lighting/).

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126974602_175b932a40_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Halloween Spirits">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126974602_3d3c949e0d.jpg" alt="Halloween Spirits"/>
</a>

This is just a 20 second exposure with me moving my LED around inside the pumpkin with my hand.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126376195_537c936dcf_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Halloween Spirits">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126376195_611ccb1457.jpg" alt="Halloween Spirits"/>
</a>

This might be my favorite one.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126864530_58868bc54f_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Group Portrait">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-29-pumpkin-carving-2010/5126864530_5570b21576.jpg" alt="Group Portrait"/>
</a>

I love the symmetry of this photo, with the three heads and the three orange orbs.

We had a wonderful evening. It was great to have our neighbor over for a couple hours.

Happy Halloween!!


Pumpkin Carving 2010

Visiting Colindres in October of 2010


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113680901_f98a702bf4_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Working out">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113680901_0de827f22e_t.jpg" alt="Working out"/>
</a>

At the end of our Saturday Epic Mall Adventure last weekend we stopped by a sporting goods store because I wanted to buy a pair of 5 kg dumbbells to have near my desk to use during moments of computing downtime, like code compiles and YouTube videos. Nora, who had been wide-eyed during the whole hyperstimulating mall visit, picked up some 0.5 kg dumbbells and started lifting them herself. It was pretty cute...like she was training to kick some schoolyard butt. So I recorded a little video.

As if I had any choice on the soundtrack...

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113680901_f98a702bf4_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Working out">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113680901_0de827f22e.jpg" alt="Working out"/>
</a>

Here are a few more photos from the mall visit:

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113669267_838123f91e_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Mallrat">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113669267_c6558110d8.jpg" alt="Mallrat"/>
</a>

Mallrat.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5114275438_801c7f8631_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Shopping with Nora: where'd she go now?">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5114275438_df2f648eb5.jpg" alt="Shopping with Nora: where'd she go now?"/>
</a>

She very much enjoyed the clothing racks.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113679295_9163e96172_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Shopping with Nora: where is she now?">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113679295_fd1bf581a9.jpg" alt="Shopping with Nora: where is she now?"/>
</a>

Where could she be?

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113676805_747332cbd8_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Minnie Mouse, Nora's latest obsession">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-25-weight-lifting/5113676805_439670fc87.jpg" alt="Minnie Mouse, Nora's latest obsession"/>
</a>

From some stockings she has, not too unlike the ones she's looking at here, she has learned who Minnie Mouse is, and now every time she sees a picture or stuffed version of Minnie (sometimes she has some false positives with Mickey as well), she shouts "_MINNIIIIIIE!!_" It was quite a day.


Weight Lifting


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-22-thirsty-hairdresser/5105820804_cf30e5fdc6_o_d.png" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Thirsty Hairdresser (freeze frame)">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-22-thirsty-hairdresser/5105820804_060ecb6926_t.jpg" alt="Thirsty Hairdresser (freeze frame)"/>
</a>

 by erikrasmussen, on Flickr")Sometimes it feels like I spend my entire time with my daughter telling her what _not_ to do. Don't touch that potted plant. Don't open that drawer. Don't empty the contents of Daddy's wallet out onto the floor where you just spilt some yogurt. Etc, etc. So in retrospect, I can see how she might think it appropriate to boss everyone around [and shout "No!" when you do certain things](/2010/08/13/grapes-of-wrath/).  Recently, during my parents' visit she spent several minutes "styling" her mother's hair:

1. Move Mommy's hair around
2. Take a few steps back
3. Put your hands on your hips
4. Admire your work
5. See that your work is not yet done
6. Go to #1

It was adorable, and I was just able to catch the tail end of it on video. What happened next was that she ran out of water in her cup and demanded, with [one of her favorite words](/2010/07/23/agua/), that her mother get her some more. When her mother didn't spring immediately to her service, she moved to the other side of her mother and tried to push her towards the kitchen. Luckily her grandmother stepped in and offered to get her some water. But Nora wasn't content to wait for the water, so she followed her into the kitchen to yell at her about exactly how and how not to fetch the water (I'm guessing at the content of the yelling). Then she did her latest annoying behavior of holding the water in her mouth. About 5% of the time it gets spit back out, so it always makes me nervous. I've taught her to smack her lips and say "Ahhh!" when she finishes a sip precisely because it forces her to swallow.

Well, I've sort of spoiled the plot for you, but here's the video anyway. It was filmed before a live smart-alecky studio audience.


Thirsty Hairdresser


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-21-chinese-capitalism-in-spain/5101866603_44c32c1885_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Hiper Hong Xin">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-21-chinese-capitalism-in-spain/5101866603_26ab0558ac_t.jpg" alt="Hiper Hong Xin"/>
</a>

In Spain, when you say, "_Voy a los chinos_" ("I'm going to the Chinese.") you're usually referring to a special kind of store, almost always owned and operated by Chinese immigrants, that contains a vast array of small, often plastic, supplies for everyday life, e.g. a bucket, some batteries, a broom, blank dvds, some tape, a bowl, a rubber ball, a shower curtain, a gift card, some plastic flowers, etc.

We've had two similar, Spanish owned, "cheap, but useful, shit" stores in town for the five years I've lived here, but we just got our first authentic Chinese store. They bought the whole ground floor of an apartment building and spent several months fixing it up, during which I overheard several, "Man, those Chinese are hard workers," comments (is it racist if the stereotype is complimentary?). I took some photos of the outside of the store just before it opened a week ago, and I have since been inside to see what kind of selection they have. It's _unbelievable!_ <a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-21-chinese-capitalism-in-spain/5101866603_44c32c1885_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Hiper Hong Xin">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-21-chinese-capitalism-in-spain/5101866603_26ab0558ac.jpg" alt="Hiper Hong Xin"/>
</a>

Clothes, handbags, jewelry, umbrellas...

The local shopkeepers feel about the same way a typical Main St. American shopkeeper feels when the first Walmart opens in town, except, in Spain's case, there's an added not-like-us foreigner racism aspect to it. The fact that the Chinese shops open on Sunday when almost all shops in Catholic Spain are closed makes them stand out even more.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-21-chinese-capitalism-in-spain/5101864571_e9f7aca383_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Hiper Hong Xin">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-21-chinese-capitalism-in-spain/5101864571_3cef936cc4.jpg" alt="Hiper Hong Xin"/>
</a>

Lamps, decorative boxes, pet beds, pet carriers, nails, screws, tools...

And for their grand October opening they have really embraced that king of "cheap plastic shit" holidays, Halloween, which [doesn't really exist yet in Spain](/2008/10/31/halloween-traditions/). If you care to [view this photo large](http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikrasmussen/5101864571/sizes/o/), you'll see some bare rubber boobs for wearing to your favorite costume party. Not a lot of _those_ in Walmart!

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-21-chinese-capitalism-in-spain/5101862665_91f4a54d59_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Hiper Hong Xin">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-21-chinese-capitalism-in-spain/5101862665_4e1c5e7d93.jpg" alt="Hiper Hong Xin"/>
</a>

Stuffed animals, picture frames, school supplies, plastic storage crates, small furniture, trash cans, globes, board games...

Exactly how they can supply their stores with so much varied stuff is a mystery to me. There must be some corporate supplier that specializes in importing small cheaply manufactured products from China and then distributing it to stores around Spain. The Chinese are known for having a fairly cohesive expatriate culture (how many cities have a _Spaintown_ neighborhood?), but it's still odd that they would all choose the same business model throughout the destination country. Well, maybe it's not that odd; a lot of early stage immigration happens like that: you hear that Cousin Bobby is making a pretty good living on the other side of the world doing X and you decide to give it a shot yourself. As widespread as this phenomenon is across Spain, it mostly seems to be the work of first generation immigrants so far.

The supreme irony of the whole situation is that it's China's Communism that allows them to produce exports so cheaply, which, in turn, undercuts foreign Capitalist markets, forcing people out of work and onto the socialist dole, meanwhile giving Chinese immigrants in Spain the ticket to a successful Capitalist business venture. Rube Goldberg Economics 101.


Chinese Capitalism in Spain


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-19-what-to-do-when-your-child-cries-at-night/3488385909_20c105d5ef_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Pissed Off">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-19-what-to-do-when-your-child-cries-at-night/3488385909_85f76f6aed_t.jpg" alt="Pissed Off"/>
</a>

One of the most frustrating parts of parenting for me is the distinct lack of right answers to questions of how to raise a child. Not every issue is as straightforward as "Should I let my child crawl on the ledge of my 7th story window?" (Answer: Only if you've double-checked the harnesses.) [Like life in general](/2008/10/16/everything-is-gray/), most issues come down to a judgement call with good arguments in both directions. One issue about which I often feel completely clueless is that of what to do when my child cries in the middle of the night. It seems that there are two opposing strategies. 

## Intermittent Visitation

[![](https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-19-what-to-do-when-your-child-cries-at-night/41%2B9qfZJX-L._SL160_.jpg)](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0345501802?ie=UTF8&tag=eriksblog07-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0345501802)In Spain, there is a fairly large movement lately towards the "let her cry herself to sleep" end of the spectrum led by neuroscientist [Dr. Eduard Estivill](http://www.doctorestivill.es/) and his very popular book, [_Duérmete, Niño: Cómo Solucionar Los Problemas del Sueño Infantil_](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0553060651?ie=UTF8&tag=eriksblog07-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0553060651) (English version: [5 Days to a Perfect Night's Sleep for Your Child: The Secrets to Making Bedtime a Dream](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0345501802?ie=UTF8&tag=eriksblog07-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0345501802)). The basic concept goes like this:

- Your child needs to understand that night time is for sleeping and that crying won't make her parents get her up to play.
- Go and visit your child every 5-7 minutes so that she knows she's not forever abandoned.
- Make your visits as boring as possible. Simply state, "It's night time and it's time for sleep. Good night," and leave again.
- Repeat until the child is asleep.

The computer scientist in me loves the idea of boiling a complex parenting issue down to a simple algorithm like this. It feels so..._scientific_! Like I should have on a white lab coat and carry a clipboard when I go in to console my wailing child. Many, many parents we know absolutely swear by this method. They say that with their first kid, they used to let him sleep in bed with them and it took years to get him to sleep alone, but with the second kid they were strict with this method the first week and everything has since been wonderful.

The only drawback is having to silence the little voice inside your head screaming, "_What a terrible horrible selfish parent you are sitting on the couch watching television while your tortured child is obviously in desperate need of your companionship and touch!!_" I have found that I am able to accomplish the emotional distancing feat fairly well (headphones help), but it eats my wife up inside. And I completely understand her point of view; it can really make you feel like a complete failure of a human being.

## Selfless Companionship

The alternative is to simply do whatever it takes to get your kid to sleep every night, rocking her to sleep in your arms, holding her hand while she falls asleep in her crib, singing lullabies, letting her sleep in her parents' bed, whatever it takes. The theory goes that your baby isn't yet smart enough to manipulate you consciously and she's just expressing her biological need to be close to a loving parent. This is how it's been done for millennia and it's what is most natural for healthy emotional development.

That's all well and good if you can afford to give that much of yourself to your child. But this is the twenty-first century and the stay-at-home mom family model is out the window. My wife gets up between 5:00 and 6:00 in the morning to go to work. She can't afford to be singing lullabies from 2:00 to 4:00 in the morning just because Junior is bored in her crib. Nor can I.

The Selfless Companionship model might be the quickest short-term solution to getting your kid to bed on any given night, but then she'll expect it the next night, and the next, and the next. The sooner a child can learn to fall asleep by herself, the better off the whole family will be in the long term.

## Conclusion

The problem with human developmental psychology is that our innate morals prevent us from doing any interesting experiments. You can't place one twin in a loving home and place the other one in a padded white room until she's eighteen and then compare them. Our sense of ethics prohibits that kind of experiment with anything bigger than a rat. In the end all we have are [opinions and gray areas and individual judgement calls](/2008/10/16/everything-is-gray/); and no irrefutably right answers. You might think your parenting style is better than mine, but you can't prove it; nor can I prove the contrary.

The wisest move is to simply take a step back and ask yourself if it really matters. Do you know what method your parents used on you? Probably not. I suspect, but obviously cannot prove, that the way your parents put you to sleep every night has very, very little affect on who you are and your adult life. So in the end **it doesn't really matter**. Everyone must choose some balance between how much of themselves they can afford to give at two in the morning vs. how much the empathetic heartbreak of a crying child alone in the next room weighs upon them. One thing's for sure, though... Parenting certainly isn't easy.


What to do when your child cries at night


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-14-scribbler/5082342324_299af363bc_o_d.png" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Scribbler (freeze frame)">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-14-scribbler/5082342324_05855fe755_t.jpg" alt="Scribbler (freeze frame)"/>
</a>

 by erikrasmussen, on Flickr")When I took Nora to her 18-month doctor's checkup, the doctor asked questions like, "Does she do X?", "If you give her Y, does she do Z with it?", etc. Beaming with paternal pride, I was able to answer yes to all of them...until he said, "If you give her a pencil and paper, will she draw?" I had to answer, "Probably, we've never really done that," as I plummeted down the rabbit hole of "I'm a terrible parent" guilt.

When we got home, I gave her a pen and paper, and she scribbled away like a tormented artist. She seems to slightly favor her right hand, but she'll scribble with her left as well. It's cute how, when her mother rotates the page to give her a clean canvas, she gets upset and demands it be rotated back to how it was.

When she finishes a "drawing", she likes to carry it around the house for a minute or two until something else catches her eye.


Scribbler


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-11-under-the-bleachers/5071569383_f48e052358_o_d.png" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Under the bleachers (freeze frame)">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-11-under-the-bleachers/5071569383_b04202027f_t.jpg" alt="Under the bleachers (freeze frame)"/>
</a>

 by erikrasmussen, on Flickr")I remember, as a kid, playing amongst the veritable jungle of metal bars that make up the supports beneath bleachers. Near the park where I take Nora most often to play on the swings and slide, there is a _bolera_, an area set up for a bowling game specific to Cantabria, with some bleachers around it. Recently, Nora has discovered the fun that can be had climbing in and around the bars under the bleachers.


Under the Bleachers


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-11-who-buys-your-birthday-lunch/2939288638_3d417edb66_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Thirty Candles">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-11-who-buys-your-birthday-lunch/2939288638_4a9d7c0dee_t.jpg" alt="Thirty Candles"/>
</a>

When you live abroad, most customs that don't match your own seem odd at first. Some traditions are pretty clearly worse, but the people practicing them don't know any better; [most are just different](/2009/01/28/whats-the-deal-with-last-names-in-spain/), neither better nor worse; and some are hands down superior to the customs in your own country, and it's _your_ compatriots back home that don't know any better. Today I'm going to talk about a Spanish custom that falls into the latter category, being pretty clearly preferable to the tradition in my home country. It's about who buys lunch or drinks or dinner on your birthday. 

### The Wrong Way

In the United States, it's the friends of the person celebrating their birthday that buy lunch for the birthday person. On your birthday, your friends will take you out to lunch, and, depending on how many people are with you, either one person will buy your lunch, or your friends will split the cost of your meal.

If you're out for drinks, you're liable to get one round from each friend. Either not many people go out with you for drinks, or you could get very, very drunk.

If you're out for dinner, then your friends or family are probably splitting your tab amongst themselves.

The final result is that, in the US, if you have any social life whatsoever, you're going to get some free food or drinks once a year.

### The Right Way

In Spain, it's totally reversed: the person celebrating their birthday pays for everyone's food and drinks. My initial reaction to this was, "Man, that sucks! It's my special day and _I'm the one_ taking the financial hit?" But when you consider it further, there are two wonderful corollaries:

1. Absolutely all of your friends want to come celebrate your birthday with you.
2. You get free food and drinks **_all year round!_**

In my particular social group of about ten people that goes out once a week, we normally split the costs evenly. But every couple weeks someone has a birthday and that week they pick up the dinner tab. It's always a pleasant surprise.

Even though the giving and receiving theoretically comes out even in both systems, you really don't mind spending more on your birthday because your friends are there congratulating you on your special day, and the incentive for people to come out and celebrate with their friends acts as a great social lubricant and generally increases happiness for the whole population all year round.


Who Buys Your Birthday Lunch?


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063021387_0d313275dd_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="BLTCH sliced">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063021387_8054a9e394_t.jpg" alt="BLTCH sliced"/>
</a>

The time has come once again for the Sandwich Party, a sandwich blogging event. I participated in the [first](/2007/12/09/bocadillo-de-tortilla-de-patata/), [second](/2008/07/26/voice-of-a-pork-sandwich/), and [fourth](/2009/11/27/sandwich-party-4-i-can-has-cheezburger/) sandwich parties. The third one was held the week my daughter was born, so I missed it. This time, I admit to preparing, photographing, eating, and digesting my sandwich before the party was even announced, because there is often less than a week's notice from when The [Sandwich](http://macbebekin.com/) [Divas](http://www.hillbillyplease.com/blog/) announce these things.

This time around, I've gone with a family favorite: The Beltch. My mother, the polite lady that she is, chooses to put the vowel after the L, making it a Bletch (as if that's a polite sound!). As you might have guessed, it's a variation on the famous BLT (bacon, lettuce, and tomato), but adding cheese (CH). For proper BELTCH construction, a fried egg should be added to achieve full letter representation, but circumstances did not allow for an egg in this production. After some criticism I received in past Sandwich Party posts about using processed "singles" cheese, I made extra sure to use real Spanish from-a-wedge cheese on this one.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063568376_8d7896c439_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Semi-cured cheese wedge">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063568376_a2908c255c.jpg" alt="Semi-cured cheese wedge"/>
</a>

The cheese. Did you know that the Spanish say "PATATA!" (potato) when they are posing for a photograph? How silly. Try saying "Patata!" and looking your best. Anglophones: 1, Hispanophones: 0.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063572238_bf87427ac7_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Cheese Slices">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063572238_c9bb1a5edb.jpg" alt="Cheese Slices"/>
</a>

Who cut the cheese? I did, actually.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063575962_358ea1d711_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Tomato, ripe, glistening">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063575962_47e7c58e0d.jpg" alt="Tomato, ripe, glistening"/>
</a>

Ripe succulent tomato? Check!

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5062969521_ab935e6e2c_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Tomato, sliced">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5062969521_1197978a23.jpg" alt="Tomato, sliced"/>
</a>

Sliced.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5062973215_5423e68210_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Thick bacon">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5062973215_af0cd503c2.jpg" alt="Thick bacon"/>
</a>

In Spain, the bacon is THICK!! And sometimes they spell it _beicon_. I could've asked for it thinner, I guess, but a wise man should've once said, "If you're worried about your arteries, you're not making your sandwich properly."

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5062978407_b50b498850_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Fried Bacon">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5062978407_4d2f65708f.jpg" alt="Fried Bacon"/>
</a>

Bacon: Fried. This was way more than I used in the sandwich.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063017421_caa25b4ee2_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="BLTCH">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063017421_846c7b9046.jpg" alt="BLTCH"/>
</a>

All put together on lightly toasted bread.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063021387_0d313275dd_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="BLTCH sliced">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-09-bltch-sandwich-party-5/5063021387_8054a9e394.jpg" alt="BLTCH sliced"/>
</a>

BLTCH!! Mmmmm!!!

Please enjoy the following "Making Of" documentary slideshow...


BLTCH - Sandwich Party 5


Recently, I had the following exchange with my daughter. It seems, sometimes, like most of our conversations can be boiled down to "Nora, what you're doing may kill you."

> Me: "Nora, don't run with a fork in your hand!"
> 
> Nora: \[picks up a second fork and continues running\]
> 
> Me: "No, the problem wasn't a lack of forks!" 1

This got me thinking overthinking... One of the hardest parts about becoming truly fluent in a foreign language is comprehending the subtle differences between two (or more) words in the foreign language that translate back to the same word in your own.

### while(true)

Just the other day, I was referring to someone having lived in a city for a few years, and I said they had lived there _un rato_ (a while). In my head, whenever I need to say "while", I say _rato_. But my father-in-law corrected me; he'd understood what I had meant, but he told me I should have used the word _temporada_, which also means "while" (as well as "season", in the sense of a sport's season or a season of a television show, but not like autumn or winter). Reflecting upon this, I think it's safe to assume that if your "while" is measured in minutes or hours (e.g. how long you've been waiting for the bus), you should go with _rato_, but if it's days, months, or years, it should be _temporada_.

### Indefinite, yet quantitatively specific

One of the only mistakes my wife still makes sometimes when speaking English is of this same nature; she often will use the word "one" when she means "a". e.g. "On the way home, I stopped at one gas station." No native English speaker would say that unless they were specifically stressing the quantity of gas stations, but it's an easy mistake for a native Spanish speaker to make, since the indefinite article "a" translates to _un_ or _una_, which also means "one". While the quantity of gas stations referred to by "a gas station" is unmistakably specific, we anglophones also have the ability to subtly emphasize it if we want to...which we almost never would.

Little quirks like these are one of the most fascinating things I've found about learning a foreign language.

### Back to the forks...

If we were to anthropomorphize my 18-month-old daughter into a high-reasoning hispanophone adult, we could see how the command "don't run with a fork" might be misunderstood as "don't run with one fork". Therefore, one way of complying with the order would be by taking on another utensil.

1 "The problem wasn't a lack of forks" sounds like audience input into a comedy improv sketch.


Forked Tongues


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-basic-training/5059002765_e12718511b_o_d.png" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Basic Training (freeze frame)">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-basic-training/5059002765_972be36b1a_t.jpg" alt="Basic Training (freeze frame)"/>
</a>

 by erikrasmussen, on Flickr")She's always been rather indifferent to the rope netting at the local playground, but yesterday she figured out a trick. She can travel through one of the holes in the ropes. I verified with her afternoon playground companion (Codename: Mommy), and she confirmed that yesterday was the first time Nora exhibited a strategy with regard to the ropes. She reminded me of a recruit going through a Basic Training obstacle course. You should see how well she cleans her rifle!


Basic Training


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/5059366555_b31aef4335_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Happy Birthday, Great-Grandma!">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/5059366555_0afbd4da52_t.jpg" alt="Happy Birthday, Great-Grandma!"/>
</a>

Nora's only remaining great-grandmother (my paternal grandmother), Joyce, turns \[_REDACTED_\]-years-old today. It was very special for us that she travelled to visit us soon after Nora was born. And Nora returned the favor a year later and stayed a few days in her house last March, when we had a family reunion in which all her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren showered her with love and affection. If we can raise Nora to be half as kind, classy, and caring as her great-grandmother, we'll have made the world a better place.  <a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/5059360119_f122ebd070_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Happy Birthday, Great-Grandma!">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/5059360119_6d8f7456f1.jpg" alt="Happy Birthday, Great-Grandma!"/>
</a>

No, you're holding it wrong.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/3417847387_a4efd8579c_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Little Erik and his Grandparents">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/3417847387_77c80b9a63.jpg" alt="Little Erik and his Grandparents"/>
</a>

Me, with my paternal grandparents.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/3542875174_8c5cdd2c8f_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Great-Grandma Feeding">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/3542875174_8a63dbc932.jpg" alt="Great-Grandma Feeding"/>
</a>

Joyce holding 8-week-old Nora.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/5059366555_b31aef4335_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Happy Birthday, Great-Grandma!">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-07-happy-birthday-great-grandma/5059366555_0afbd4da52.jpg" alt="Happy Birthday, Great-Grandma!"/>
</a>

Happy birthday!

Love,  
Erik, Marga, and Nora


Happy Birthday, Great-Grandma!


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-05-spanish-childhood/5054942080_a80025d5c3_o_d.png" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Bullfighting A Toddler">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-05-spanish-childhood/5054942080_b630822d07_t.jpg" alt="Bullfighting A Toddler"/>
</a>

As an American child, I learned everything I knew about bullfighting [from Bugs Bunny](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjcXFM0lkjk). My daughter, on the other hand, is growing up in Spain. Even as a toddler, she is being _toreada_ (bullfought?) by her grandparents. They even use one of her red cardigans to tempt her, just like Bugs Bunny might do.  Notice the bit of authenticity when she falls down and her grandmother starts chanting "Fuera! Fuera!", meaning "Out! Out!" This is because when a bull falls down too much or seems lame, the audience at a bullfight will chant for the bull to be spared, as the fight is too easy. Sometimes the president of the bullring will pardon a lame bull.


Spanish Childhood


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5051415638_8a6e1e5a6a_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Loving Tiko">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5051415638_f09c744970_t.jpg" alt="Loving Tiko"/>
</a>

Last week, my sister-in-law, and [my third grandfather](/2010/06/12/quirky-old-grandpa/) came to visit for a few hours on their way back from Extremadura. They brought their dog, Tiko, with them. Tiko is seventeen years old and still going. That's pretty incredible for a _Canis lupus familiaris_. The fact that he's so blind, deaf, and weak, makes him a perfect dog for Nora. When she got back from daycare, I heard the door open, she called "Poppy!" to me, and came into my office with Tiko on leash. She was pretty cute with him, so I took some photographs.  <a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5051301930_85000a2167_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Loving Tiko">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5051301930_9d472b1e30.jpg" alt="Loving Tiko"/>
</a>

Nora doesn't realize that her two fascinations, dogs and always carrying around [a cookie](/2010/09/24/cookie-monster-the-insatiable-snacker/) in her hand, are incompatible. Or _very compatible_, depending on whether or not you're a quadruped.

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5050690617_beb6b42d3b_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Loving Tiko">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5050690617_ebc3815e9e.jpg" alt="Loving Tiko"/>
</a>

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5050777747_c93519ba9d_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Loving Tiko">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5050777747_1a98394536.jpg" alt="Loving Tiko"/>
</a>

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5051409060_981154d292_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Loving Tiko">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5051409060_444ec97899.jpg" alt="Loving Tiko"/>
</a>

<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5051415638_8a6e1e5a6a_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image" title="Loving Tiko">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-loving-tiko/5051415638_f09c744970.jpg" alt="Loving Tiko"/>
</a>

This is by far the best photo of the hundred or so I snapped.


Loving Tiko


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-slide/5050696613_e790796eec_o_d.png" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Slide (freeze frame)">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-04-slide/5050696613_ec4303b5a6_t.jpg" alt="Slide (freeze frame)"/>
</a>

 by erikrasmussen, on Flickr")Nora has, over time, come to enjoy the slide (called _el tobogán_ in Spain) at the local playground. More than anything, she likes to sit atop it surveying the land, like an heir to the throne. Eventually, often after a "Three, two, one!" countdown, she will throw herself down the slide. What follows is a little video I made recently in the playground.  I'm particularly proud, in retrospect, of the reflections in the first scene.


Slide


<a href="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-01-no-let-me-pay/162257320_21c8abaf69_o_d.jpg" target="_blank" class="flickr-image post-thumb" title="Fourteen Thousand Euros">
  <img src="https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-01-no-let-me-pay/162257320_21c8abaf69_t.jpg" alt="Fourteen Thousand Euros"/>
</a>

There are many, many social customs that confuse the hell out of me, but one of the most strange is the insistence of adults to pay for each others' meals. In the US, when I would go out to eat with my coworkers, we'd always split the bill among everyone. Each person would pull out their credit card, and the waiter or waitress would give us each individual bills. Simple and fair.

In Spain, however, there is a big "buying rounds" culture that was very foreign to me at first. While this somewhat extends to meals, in Spain the "no, let me pay!" issue comes up more often with buying rounds of drinks. Due to the geographical layout of towns and the prevalence of bars, there is a big bar-hopping culture. So it's very common to visit several bars on a midday walk with your friends, and in each bar, only one person in the group pays for the drinks. It rotates at each bar, and if you go an outing or two without paying for any rounds, people notice. I'm fine with this. The drinks are so cheap and the company so good that I rather enjoy it. You pay for a round, and then it feels, emotionally, that you get a bunch of "free" drinks after that.

What I don't get is when people get insistent, or even angry, about the right to pay. This is not unique to Spaniards. Americans do this too, but mostly over whole meals, which is even stupider. First of all, let's admit that the person that pays for everyone's meal comes off worse than everyone else who just had a free meal. It's true. There may be some pride of "providing for loved ones" or something, but you're still out a bunch of money that no one else spent. Why would people fight over wanting to be the losing party? In Spain, I have seen people take the money someone else has put on the bar to pay and throw it on the floor, or forcibly put it in the attempted owner's pocket in order to pay themselves. So sacred is this "right to pay" that people go a little crazy. I've never seen it reach actual physical violence, but I've seen some nasty name calling.

I have friends with whom I have had dinner on half a dozen occasions, and they have insisted on paying every time. At some point it becomes insulting, like they think they are better than me or that I am too poor to pay. Ironically (or perhaps not), it's almost always someone poorer than me that exhibits this behavior.

How many times have you heard this conversation at a table when the bill arrives?

> A: "I'll get this."
> 
> B: "No, let me pay."
> 
> A: "No, I'll pay."
> 
> B: "No, really, I'll pay."
> 
> A: "No, let me pay."
> 
> B: "No, I've got this."
> 
> ...

It's fighting over who will have the "privilege" of leaving the restaurant with less money.

I absolutely refuse to participate in this bullshit. I've decided to no longer be insulted or feel guilty about letting you pay even when it's my turn. If you want to choose to be the loser in our social relationship, that's your prerogative.

## My Policy

If you ever go out to dinner with me, and we aren't splitting the check, remember this:

**I will offer to pay _ONLY ONCE_.**

If you get to the bill first and declare you will pay for it, I will say, "No, let me pay," once. At that point, you can either agree to let me pay or not. If you say, "No, let me pay," after that, I will let you pay. Every time. This policy will result in one of three outcomes:

1. You will always pay. I win.
2. Eventually you will get tired of always paying and will accept my offer. We both win.
3. You will become so annoyed with my unwillingness to ask to pay six times that you will stop going out with me. In which case perhaps we shouldn't be friends anyway.

Society has some truly ridiculous rituals, and this wallet martyring is one I will never understand.


No, let me pay!


![Coat of arms](https://d1js6qm6cshi0v.cloudfront.net/oldblog/2010-10-01-the-hymn-of-colindres/Escudo_colindres.PNG)Today I became aware that the little fishing village where I live has a town hymn, an anthem to celebrate what it means to be from Colindres. Both to ensure that I understand it fully, and to share it with my non-hispanophone audience, I have translated it into English. It really is quite beautiful. I hope to one day hear or see or record a performance of it, as it would be nice to hear the music and voices booming with pride. 

## Lyrics

Es Colindres tierra hidalga, La cuna de mis mayores Y el orgullo de Cantabria Y el orgullo de Cantabria Que pregonan sus blasones.

Desde lo alto a la ribera Comerciante o labrador Tienes alma marinera Tienes alma marinera Con la azada o el timón.

**Estribillo:**

Colindres empuña el remo Colindres iza la vela Que no hay en el mundo entero Quien contigo en la mar pueda.

De tus astilleros reales Naví­os y galeones Botaste para mil mares Que engrandecieron tus hombres.

Cada dí­a con la aurora A pescar la mar nos llama A la mar que ya es la hora A la mar que llega el alba.

(_Estribillo_)

Ha vuelto a venir el dí­a Pescadores hay mar plena Para abandonar la rí­a Que la pesca nos espera.

Ay mi bella colindresa Yo le pido a San Ginés Que con bien de la mar vuelva Que con bien de la mar vuelva Y al venir te vuelva a ver.

Colindres is noble land, The cradle of my elders And the pride of Cantabria And the pride of Cantabria Proclaiming their glory.

From the top of the shore Merchant or farmer You have a seafaring soul You have a seafaring soul With the hoe or rudder.

**Chorus:**

Colindres wields the oar Colindres hoists the sail There is no one in the entire world That can overcome you at sea.

From your royal shipyards You launched ships and galleons To a thousand seas That exalted your men.

Every day at the crack of dawn The sea calls us to fish To sea because it is time To sea because dawn is here.

(_Chorus_)

The day has come again Fishermen, the sea is full Time to leave the estuary Because the fish await us.

Oh, my beautiful Colindres gal I ask [San Ginés](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gin%C3%A9s_de_la_Jara) That I may return with goods from the sea That I may return with goods from the sea And come to see you again.

Is anyone else getting choked up? Beautiful!


18 posts from October, 2010