Valdelavilla – D Travels 'Round

Daily Wanderlust: the ancient Queimada ceremony in Spain

During my time in Spain, I spent two separate weeks with the Vaughantown program teaching English to Spaniards. The first round was in an old and gorgeous village, Valdelavilla — the only English-speaking town in Spain. The second stint was in the beautiful and scenic Monfrague National Park during the heart of the Spanish spring.Continue reading “Daily Wanderlust: the ancient Queimada ceremony in Spain”

Back to Anglo “reality”

Decompressing is a tough activity following the six days I spent immersed in English … in a way I never thought possible … with people I never expected to fall so deeply in love with.

I found myself craving Vadelavilla. The people. The way my heart smiled during my time there.

Opening my ears

“Hi,” I began. “My name is D. I am originally from just outside of Washington, DC. In my former life, I was a publicist. Now, I am traveling and writing about it. If I could be any animal, I would be … a bird.”

I sat down.
After introductions, Dade explained the program: early wake up call for breakfast, followed by four one-on-ones with Anglos, then lunch, then siesta, then more one-on-ones and group activities, then performances, then dinner, then optional drinks at the bar.

What did I get myself into?

The first Valdelavilla friends

Anthony and I were sitting next to each other on the bus. I really wanted nothing more than to just turn on my music, watch the Spanish countryside pass by and eventually close my eyes and sleep.

But, that wasn’t going to happen.

We needed to sit next to one of the Spanish-speaking people and converse with them in English.

I grudgingly surrendered the seat next to Anthony and surveyed the bus for a seat next to someone who did not speak English as their native langugage.

Most of the seats were taken, save one or two.

One empty seat was next to a girl with a head full of massive curls and a smile that spread across her entire face. She looked friendly. And likely easy to talk to.

I walked up to her, sitting alone in the window seat (damn).

“This seat taken?” I asked her, having a “Forrest Gump” moment and vividly recalling the poor boy in his youth trying to sit next to someone on the bus only to be turned down.

An introduction to Valdelavilla

By the time Marisa was done explaining our jobs for the six days, I began to question exactly what I had gotten myself into. When I had applied to the program, I thought it was a cool idea, but more than anything else, thought it was a great way to extend my travels an additional week (room and food were covered) and learn about the Spanish culture.