The 14th of July is still a bit of a blur for me. It was a big day. I met Iñaki's family on his Dad's side, woke up at 5:30 a.m., and it was the last day of San Fermin. We laughed, we cried, we ate, we drank... we ate and drank some more. My body was stretched to it's limit of being tired, and then some. I found out just how much food I can actually eat before feeling like passing out (didn't think it was possible). I haven't sweat that much since Oregon City Basketball Camp, during which we played 5 games a day. I have never felt more disgustingly dirty, like I could actually sleep comfortably standing up, or out of place in my whole life... I have to come back next year!
Like I said, the day began at 5:30 a.m. The events of the day might best be described in a timeline format in fact. Iñaki, Irene and I headed down town from the Mayo abode at 6:15. We found a good parking spot and had a short walk to the square in front of the government building (where all the pictures of the crowds were taken in my previous blog). "La Pamplonesa" one of the official San Fermin bands begins the day with a little walk down one of the streets in old town while people dance all around them calling out which number song to play. The songs don't really have numbers, but there are 4 and everyone thinks they know which is which, but they don't and it's just a bunch of chaos until they start a new song and everyone pretends like that's the one they asked for. It begins at 6:45 a.m. and it's called "Las Dianas." We met up with Iñaki's dad Paco, Mikel, Aunt Pilar, her friend Gracia and Irene's main squeeze, Dani at about 6:30.
The band let it rip at 6:45 sharp and we all danced down the street next to it. It was a pretty great way to start the morning. Really, there are bands walking through the streets each day and all the time during San Fermin. It's pretty cool. Everywhere you turn you could end up in your own personal parade.
After Las Dianas came a bit of awkwardness. We walked back to Eduardo's apartment to catch the Encierro (Running of the Bulls) at 8 a.m. Iñaki's Dad is a little intimidating to me and speaks Spanish quite quickly and always looks you right in the eye and was on the board at the basketball club and is all official so I sort of shied away from much contact with him at first. I talked with Pilar and Gracia a bit, but all my small talk had dried up by the time we were on the balcony at Eduardo's and still had a half hour before the run. Irene, Iñaki and Paco, went to go buy churros while the rest of us hung out in the apartment. It's traditional to eat churros for breakfast during San Fermin and there's a specific churreria that everyone goes to and they sell them fresh by the bagful.
When the churros arrived, we chowed down and took a swig or two off the Brugal bottle (it's just San Fermin, I swear!). At one point, I turned around from out on the balcony and saw Paco back in the apartment leaning with his back against the kitchen counter with the bottle in two hands, head tilted back and pouring it into his mouth like a man needing water in the desert. It was quite a sight.
We passed the rest of the pre-run out on the two balconies just watching the crowd, my nerves running too high to understand or speak a word in anything other than a thick American accent. So, I held tight to Mikel who took pity on me and busted out some English. He kept telling me to go down and run. He said he'd come with me if he could just be a few feet ahead of me. Ha ha ha.
As we stood watching a song began to rise from below and I looked down and made eye contact with a group of young, strapping, Spanish runners who seemed to be serenading me. At first I thought, oh, that's kind of fun, so I focused in and listened to what they were saying. Spain seems to have so many jovial songs, I thought it might be familiar. As I strained my ear and leaned forward, they only got louder. After a few verses, the chorus became quite clear... "Hey brunette girl, show us your boobs."
I'm sure as soon as I noticed what they were saying, realization flooded my face and I hoped none of the family had heard as I tried to duck back into the apartment discreetly. But, it was too late. Irene started yelling at me from the next balcony over, "Darby, they're singing to you!" I just sort of shook my head nervously, like I didn't understand and, as Irene's a brunette as well, with much bigger jugs than mine, I acted like they must be talking to her and snuck back into the livingroom.
Yet, once I did so, I felt a bit disappointed in myself. Afterall, it was San Fermin. It was my move and I folded. So, I went back out, stuck my chest out, completely clothed of course, and the songs started up a little later. I wagged my finger at them and smiled sweetly. As they were letting the crowd break and spread a bit, I acted like I was going to do it... and then let them all run away without showing a thing. I was satisfied with it anyway. You may think this little antecdote is self absorbed. Really, though, all the men during San Fermin want to see boobs and they don't care who's, it's just like Mardi Gras. I just happened to be the one who got the song that time.
Moving on... by 8:30 we had finished watching the bulls, a spectacular view once again. One of my favorite moments was Dani yelling at the T.V. announcers about a strong opinion he had on how the Encierro had gone. He´s always got an opinion and was fighting the whole room on what he thought. It was hilarious. Next, it was decided that churros were not enough to suffice our tummies. We headed out to find a bar for breakfast, the whole group. We were seated outside at a long table about a half an hour later, after some walking and ordered eggs and chistezorra (chistorra to Spain, chistezorra to me) and wine and bread and yum yum yum.
As we sat and ate, I was getting tired and full and not understanding at all. Irene and Iñaki kept trying to talk to me but my brain was as fried as the egg on my plate and I felt like an idiot because Iñaki kept having to translate. Dani was sitting across from me during a great moment where my head was swivelling back and forth trying to catch a few words. All the sudden he just started giggling and I turned to see he was staring straight at me. He spoke to me and I understood my first clear Spanish words all day, "You're trying but you just don't understand." It was great, he totally got how I was feeling. It was like he summed up my morning in one statement. I'm glad he at least saw my effort : )
Irene, Mikel and Dani had been up all night so they left for some rest after breakfast and it was down to me, Pilar, Gracia, Iñaki and Paco by 10 a.m. Paco decided, hey, it's time for more churros. Feeling stuffed, I said no thanks, but we went to the churreria and stood in line to get them. Do, duh, do, I twittled my thumbs and stood around and didn't talk much. We got into the churreria after about 20 minutes and it was pretty cool. They had pictures up all over the walls of past groups of churro makers from San Fermines gone by. I think it's only open this time of year actually, but I'm not sure. They had little samples to take from a round little old lady before you bought your big bag and scuffled out the door as the next customers squished in. It was a neat pinch of history. It just goes to show how deeply rooted and historical San Fermin is here. The churro place even has a past. I bet you Hemmingway got a churro there!
With our second bag of churros in tow, we strolled over to the Plaza del Castillo. When I politely (I thought politely at least) refused a churro, as I thought it might make me hurl, Paco said to me, in my second phrase successfully understood in Spanish of the day, "Darby, we eat here." So, I said fine and Paco then pulled them away from me. As Bogey said best, "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
Anyway, I ended up eating the damn churro and could barely walk when we got to a bar in the plaza and sat down for some beers and rum with lemon. This was at 11 o´clock a.m. Wow. I was sitting there getting a little buzz on and my nerves were finally letting loose when a direct question was posed to me by Paco. I sort of understood, sort of didn't. I don't even remember what it was really, but we got into a tiny chat I guess, with Iñaki as an interpreter when needed. Apparently a lot of jokes were being thrown at me and I was missing every one of them. I guess at some point, I was told later, that Paco said, "The U.S... I like the country, but the people, not so much." He then asked me if I understood and I said yes, smiling like an idiot, but I guess I hadn't. Pilar got the point across to me after this that I was going to have to carry a lot on my back as the day went on, meaning a lot of horse poo was going to be flung my way, so watch out.
That's when I put my game face on and got ready for the long haul. Number one, it was affirmed that we were going to be together all day whether I liked it or not. Number two, I was getting braver by the second. Number 3, I have a blog, so I always get the last laugh ; ) So, I grabbed Iñaki's rum and lemon, drank more of it than he did and laced up my gloves.
Sadly, the rest of this tale will have to come later on. My butt hurts from sitting at the compy for so long and I need a run.
P.S. did you know we have huge fields of sunflowers here? They are amazing! I'll get a picture and blog that soon too. Speaking of pics, I forgot my camera on the 14th, so all I have is from that night out. Those will be up in the next blog. Or maybe not. I'm at about noon and I have to cover until 5:30 the next morning, so we'll see, possibly 2 more entries. Still to come are events like the huge family lunch, U.S.A. being chanted at me frequently, getting dowsed with rum and coke, meeting up with Luis and screaming for joy at the sight of a familiar face... the list goes on. Love to all!
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