Maybe I've said this a few times already, but I am both interested in and concerned about food. Not to mention, I really enjoy food. Yes, sure, in the way that we all enjoy food. But also in the way that I'm willing to spend more money monthly on food than on rent or bills (but not cumulatively).
Of course, we ain't pullin' in the dough neither. Wherever we are, we're always on the lookout for cost-effective outlets that can provide us with quality ingredients for our meals.
Upon moving to Philly as a vegan, having experienced the cruelty-free delights that filled the East End Co-op in Pittsburgh, I knew to look for a similar establishment in the city of brotherly love. And I found one. Well, two. But the one had better proximity than the other. And as I made my life in Philadelphia, I grew to know the many other organic local food outlets that the city has to offer. By the end of my Philly stint, I was hitting up the Fair Food Farmstand for some local meat, the Clark Park Farmer's Market (Urban Girls Produce, Urban Nutrition Initiative, Pennypack Farm, Lanisdale Farm, etc.) for eggs, cheese, & some veggies, Millcreek Urban farm for super cheap greens and root veggies, and ultimately the co-op for bulk grains, canned veggies, oils, teas, and other slightly processed food products. When Elliot and I felt saucy, we would go out to the various swanky farm-to-table joints for Pennsylvania gin, in-house pickled vegetables, or some roasted Lancaster chicken. After four years, you get to know the ins and outs of local and (sometimes) sustainable agriculture.
Then you leave the country. You move to another country whose food system is totally different -- perhaps just as fucked -- but very different. We're talking cured ham legs hanging from the ceilings. (Better yet, during Christmas, we're talking cured ham legs on every kitchen counter or dining table, gradually being picked apart by family, guests, and maybe a pet or two.) We're talking indoor markets like Reading Terminal, but better and more common. Sure, people love meat here just like in good ol' 'merica, but they also love their vegetables: white asparagus, artichokes, swiss chard, cabbage, endive, peppers. You will not meet kids here who stick their tongues out at veggies.
Despite the great differences between here and there, I was determined to find some shocking similarities. A few months ago, I tried asking some friends here for the down-low on the Spanish food system. I mentioned this in an earlier post, but I'll repeat anyway: I was looking for the "shit in the meat." Western industrialized food production is fucked anywhere you go, so why not here? While I can find countless books on the monocultures and genetic modifications in my homeland, the answers are not so clear here.
Of course, you know not to go to the supermarkets to search for organic veggies (verdura ecológica). But stores that sell organic food, or even organic food stores, don't represent a beat-all solution. For example, in the US, we have an affinity for fruits that don't really belong to us: bananas, oranges (in some states), mangoes, etc. In the specific case of Pennsylvania, weekly gallons of orange juice are typical, but not sustainable. However, I can easily find organic varieties of almost any fruit in organic superstores like Whole Foods. But the "organic" label and the 3,000+ miles that some fruits travel to reach us don't really mesh. And it's the same in Spain.
Sometimes, I think it could be even worse in Spain. My theory, albeit perhaps a bit premature, is that because some parts of European food production are so beneficial (exclusion of GMO's, farms' proximity to towns and cities, more appreciation for fresh foods, less public endorsement of fast food, etc.), people are blissfully unaware of the overprocessed, unhealthy, falsely marketed products that are leeching into the system. When you grow up believing, as they do in Navarra, that your community highly values food and drink, you also grow up thinking that what you find in your community is good for you. Increasingly, the food in your community is that which is provided by chain supermarkets and giant industrial food corporations.
Regarding organic food stores, I believe there to be a disconnect between organic and sustainable or local, as there often is in the US. I became accustomed to labels of origin on all produce at Mariposa, even at Whole Foods, and I don't really see any of that here. I walk into health food stores here (I know many, each with their pros and cons), and I just kind of hope that the vegetables I'm buying are at the very least from Navarra. Of course, I'm not so naive to think that about oranges (typically from Valencia) or a tomato in February. But when I buy broccoli or spinach, both vegetables that I know can thrive in Navarra, I just hope. There aren't any labels after all, perhaps because customers looking for organic products don't really care to buy local -- or maybe we're all just hoping, even the store owners.
Anyway, to really get to the point of this post, which is somewhat celebratory, at last I found TomateGorriak. This buyer's group is similar to a CSA in that members pay a flat rate to reap the benefits of local (we're talking within a few kilometers local) farmers. TomateGorriak is dissimilar to a CSA in that 1) it's super small scale as the farmers can only supply weekly veggies for a fixed number of people, and 2) members pay monthly as opposed to seasonally or yearly. Perhaps there are some CSA's that run this way, but I found TomateGorriak to be super DIY. They're a group of maybe 30 or so people, farmers included, that have arranged a system of providing locals with local produce. Members pay 50 euros each month to get a nice big bag of vegetables every Monday of that month, enough for 2-3 people. There are several groups like this throughout the region, each with their respective farmers.
I not only feel relieved to benefit from local and seasonal agriculture, but I am also somewhat relieved to find that there are other people in Pamplona that are as pessimistic about food as I am. I attended one of their orientational meetings to be debriefed on the organization and I felt at home, hearing one omen after another about today's food production. Like I said, we're interested and concerned.
Thanks for sticking with me this far. It's almost over now, but before I finish I wanted to ask you, as the reader, what do you value in food? We don't have to agree, I just want to know.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Investing in a temporary home
When Elliot and I first got here, within the first 2 weeks, we had spent somewhere around $2000.
We knew we were going to buy bikes, so that $600 expense was expected. But then I saw some front/rear panniers that I liked. And for safety's sake, we had to buy locks and helmets. That all racked up another $200.
When we found a place to live, we anticipated paying the rent up front. So we shelled out $400 for January. Oh, but then there was last month's rent, too. And some compensation for the 10 days remaining in December at the time. So our first rent payment was more like $900.
On our first night in the new place, we shivered in our thin little sleeping bags, as the winter air rolled off the Pyrenees right through our old, drafty windows. It was time to get some bedding. This also proved to be very expensive as we had to buy the largest comforter Spain had to offer; another $250 with sheets.
Shit, that's only $1950. Oh wait, yeah, there were the English textbooks, the rosemary and thyme plants, the pay-as-you-go cell phones, a few pieces of furniture, and some big gourmet Navarran meals. I guess I underestimated after all.
Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that moving is expensive, especially when you can't bring the things you already have on the airplane with you. Of course, there are necessities: shelter, transportation, food. What's really hard is paying money for things you don't really need; rather, things that just make you feel better, more comfortable. When your home is transient, minimalism is key.
But I'm not trying to live out of a suitcase. I like putting shit out on display: postcards, pictures, Kinder egg surprises. I like being surrounded by objects, colors, and smells that make me feel at home.
And the kitchen! It's hard to tolerate a less-than-ideal kitchen: without pot holders, without a good knife, without bowls, without storage space. Sure, I could make do with what's here. But then I'm living differently than I would naturally.
Little by little, I'm investing in this place, even if I'll only be here a year. In the end, I can bring some things home: panniers, paring knife, maybe even some bike parts. But most of it I'll give away, or leave for the next inhabitant to use. Although I'm conflicted about some of the purchases I've made, I'm more comfortable here now than I was in the beginning.
As I said before, the kitchen is important to me. Adding some orange color while keeping the unavoidable fluorescent lighting helped energize this room a bit (i.e. less hospital-like). Also, what you don't see is that I scrubbed the awful grease stains off the wall and ceiling, and also sealed the gap between the counter and tile to avoid mold growth. Workin' woman I am!
I never realized how important a table was to me until I lived four months without one. We used to eat at the tiny counter in the kitchen or in front of the TV. Now I don't feel so embarrassed about inviting people over for dinner. In fact, we're thinking of starting a cards night.
Adding some color and decorations (home-made masks by roomie) and arranging a common bookshelf complete with knickknacks has made this room functional and comfortable, whereas it used to just be, well, the entryway.
Again, color can change everything. And all this paint was paid for by the landlord (woo!).
We decided not to paint our room, but I did move some furniture around to open it up a little bit. Handywoman Sarah also fixed the armoire on the right that was causing us so much trouble (the back panel had fallen off and so the sides would bow out causing the shelves and our clothes to fall all the time).
We knew we were going to buy bikes, so that $600 expense was expected. But then I saw some front/rear panniers that I liked. And for safety's sake, we had to buy locks and helmets. That all racked up another $200.
When we found a place to live, we anticipated paying the rent up front. So we shelled out $400 for January. Oh, but then there was last month's rent, too. And some compensation for the 10 days remaining in December at the time. So our first rent payment was more like $900.
On our first night in the new place, we shivered in our thin little sleeping bags, as the winter air rolled off the Pyrenees right through our old, drafty windows. It was time to get some bedding. This also proved to be very expensive as we had to buy the largest comforter Spain had to offer; another $250 with sheets.
Shit, that's only $1950. Oh wait, yeah, there were the English textbooks, the rosemary and thyme plants, the pay-as-you-go cell phones, a few pieces of furniture, and some big gourmet Navarran meals. I guess I underestimated after all.
Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that moving is expensive, especially when you can't bring the things you already have on the airplane with you. Of course, there are necessities: shelter, transportation, food. What's really hard is paying money for things you don't really need; rather, things that just make you feel better, more comfortable. When your home is transient, minimalism is key.
But I'm not trying to live out of a suitcase. I like putting shit out on display: postcards, pictures, Kinder egg surprises. I like being surrounded by objects, colors, and smells that make me feel at home.
And the kitchen! It's hard to tolerate a less-than-ideal kitchen: without pot holders, without a good knife, without bowls, without storage space. Sure, I could make do with what's here. But then I'm living differently than I would naturally.
Little by little, I'm investing in this place, even if I'll only be here a year. In the end, I can bring some things home: panniers, paring knife, maybe even some bike parts. But most of it I'll give away, or leave for the next inhabitant to use. Although I'm conflicted about some of the purchases I've made, I'm more comfortable here now than I was in the beginning.
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| BEFORE |
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| AFTER |
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| BEFORE |
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| AFTER |
Adding some color and decorations (home-made masks by roomie) and arranging a common bookshelf complete with knickknacks has made this room functional and comfortable, whereas it used to just be, well, the entryway.
 |
| BEFORE |
 |
| AFTER |
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| BEFORE |
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| AFTER |
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| BEFORE |
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| AFTER |
Pow! New shower curtain, and a shelf made from an Ikea CD case, painted orange -- makes all the difference.
Maybe there were some unnecessary changes, but like I said, I don't want to live minimally. Most of these things were second-hand, and none of them will be thrown away in the end.
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| Of course the Metallica clock is stupid, but with one battery, it works! And now I don't have to buy another clock. |
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| I was just using dish rags to avoid burning myself, but these pot holders allow me to hold something for more than 3 seconds. |
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| When I saw the same incense holder I had in high school, I had to get it. Plus our hallway stinks like shit all the time. |
Sometimes I think it will be quite a while before I live anywhere for more than a year or two. But that shouldn't mean that my homes look less like homes, or that they function without a solid cutting board. I feel compelled to make where I live more comfortable, because I'm a homebody and I spend a lot of time...at home.
It's just that dumb minimalist sustainability nut on my shoulder that's telling me how much of an impact traveling can have as far as consumption goes. Stupid hippy.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Pessimistically Positive
As much as I wanna bitch and moan to you guys about...
...the rain,
my lack of inspiration,
too-soft potatoes,
my period,
and my student leaving me to go back to her homeland,
I should really talk about something positive. Because good things are happening.
1. My 23rd birthday is coming up, and Elliot's throwing me a par-tay (more pics to come, fur shur). He's gonna put his hostin' hat on, whip up some gourmet pintxos, and make sure everyone has a good time. Especially me! We are inviting pretty much everyone we know here, which makes for a nice little soirée.
2. Speaking of soirée, I've decided to learn French! I downloaded a Lonely Planet phrase book on my iPod, and a step-by-step language book on my Kindle (here's to teachin' yerself). Even though it seems like I had a terrible time skiing there, I realized that I really want to explore France. And I've wanted to take up a third language for a long time. The choice was originally between German, French, and Chinese. Although I haven't given up on the others, French seems the easiest right now, and the most accessible while living in northern Spain.
3. Elliot and I did the good deed of helping our next door neighbor move out of her apartment last week. It was amazing, the system they had. Of course, Elliot and I realized that it was the only way to do it. We live on the "fifth" floor of our building (I use quotation marks because although our apartment number is 5C, we technically have to climb seven flights of stairs) and in order to avoid tuckering yourself out too fast, you need approximately 7 or 8 friends spread out between your door and the street. We moved all her shit down "five" flights of stairs, and then up another four, in about 2 hours! Plus she gave us a bunch of expired, albeit frozen, organic chicken (she works at one of the health food stores we frequent). Not only was our help very much appreciated, but we felt good enough to go out and drink 'til four in the morning that night!
4. I've been freelance translating! For pay! And I may have found what I will seek to do in order to make a living throughout my life -- I think they call this a career. I've only translated a few pieces, but they're generally articles from academic journals. Believe it or not, my degree in psychology is helping me more than my degree in Spanish. Due to my current (and more lucrative) position as an English teacher, I can't get too serious about this just yet. But I plan on getting serious within the year, and possibly making it a full-time gig within the next two years.
Ultimately, we're just hankerin' for some summer. We got a taste of warm weather the last few weeks, but lately it's been cold and rainy. May, June, and July will not only bring higher temperatures, but also some visitors from back home, a huge music festival, and San Fermin (i.e. the running of the bulls).
Exciting times ahead! Must look forward!
...the rain,
my lack of inspiration,
too-soft potatoes,
my period,
and my student leaving me to go back to her homeland,
I should really talk about something positive. Because good things are happening.
1. My 23rd birthday is coming up, and Elliot's throwing me a par-tay (more pics to come, fur shur). He's gonna put his hostin' hat on, whip up some gourmet pintxos, and make sure everyone has a good time. Especially me! We are inviting pretty much everyone we know here, which makes for a nice little soirée.
2. Speaking of soirée, I've decided to learn French! I downloaded a Lonely Planet phrase book on my iPod, and a step-by-step language book on my Kindle (here's to teachin' yerself). Even though it seems like I had a terrible time skiing there, I realized that I really want to explore France. And I've wanted to take up a third language for a long time. The choice was originally between German, French, and Chinese. Although I haven't given up on the others, French seems the easiest right now, and the most accessible while living in northern Spain.
3. Elliot and I did the good deed of helping our next door neighbor move out of her apartment last week. It was amazing, the system they had. Of course, Elliot and I realized that it was the only way to do it. We live on the "fifth" floor of our building (I use quotation marks because although our apartment number is 5C, we technically have to climb seven flights of stairs) and in order to avoid tuckering yourself out too fast, you need approximately 7 or 8 friends spread out between your door and the street. We moved all her shit down "five" flights of stairs, and then up another four, in about 2 hours! Plus she gave us a bunch of expired, albeit frozen, organic chicken (she works at one of the health food stores we frequent). Not only was our help very much appreciated, but we felt good enough to go out and drink 'til four in the morning that night!
4. I've been freelance translating! For pay! And I may have found what I will seek to do in order to make a living throughout my life -- I think they call this a career. I've only translated a few pieces, but they're generally articles from academic journals. Believe it or not, my degree in psychology is helping me more than my degree in Spanish. Due to my current (and more lucrative) position as an English teacher, I can't get too serious about this just yet. But I plan on getting serious within the year, and possibly making it a full-time gig within the next two years.
Ultimately, we're just hankerin' for some summer. We got a taste of warm weather the last few weeks, but lately it's been cold and rainy. May, June, and July will not only bring higher temperatures, but also some visitors from back home, a huge music festival, and San Fermin (i.e. the running of the bulls).
Exciting times ahead! Must look forward!
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