Padel

I felt my heart warm a bit when Patricia turned on the television and I saw my dear friend Miley Cyrus making an announcement in spanish on Disney Channel. However, Spanish Disney Channel isn't just American actors dubbed in Spanish. They have their own shows too, like my personal favorite, Patito Feo (Ugly Duckling). Imagine a performing arts school in Argentina called Pretty Land, full best friends, worst enemies, seduction, tears, laughter, and random dance-offs, and you've got Patito Feo. Most days, after the girls and I get home from school, we do our homework and have a snack, but as soon as Patito Feo comes on we drop everything. I am becoming quite the fan. I've already learned one of the dances from the show (to my slight chagrin). On the weekends, however, there is no Patito Feo, so my family passes the time at the Padel Club.

From what little I know about tennis and squash, padel seems to be a cross between the two. It's played with racquets made of styrofoam (or something) two or three inches thick, and a tennis ball in what looks like a tennis court. Four people on two teams occupy the court at a time, hitting the ball to the other side. If it hits the opposite wall before hitting the ground, it's a point against the serving team. If it hits the ground and bounces off the wall, a player must hit it back to the serving team, otherwise it's a point for them. Under no circumstances may you touch the net, and you can let the ball bounce once before returning it. In any case, they only play padel in Spain and Argentina, but it's very popular here.

Last weekend the local league championships took place at my family's padel club, so I accompanied them to watch. After an hour or so, I realized that this was much more a social event than anything, and that this sport was representative of the very essence of the Spanish bourgeoisie. Everyone playing was a business man, his kid, or possibly (though not probably) his wife. They all had multiple racquets, and their kids wore jackets with the names of the best padel players, etc. After the matches, everyone headed to the cafe to schmooze for hours on end. This was when I wished there were more matches to watch. In the cafe, my host sisters went off with their friends from school, and not wanting to be a tag along, I sat myself down with the adults, who, of course, began to smoke. The women, either in their sports garb or their sunday best, gossiped with each other or talked about their children, and the men joked with each other and argued about who should have won the previous match.

Carlos, my host father, noticed I looked a little bored. He took me over to the bar and told me to order a bocadillo and something to drink. So I asked for lomo, a popular thin slice of grilled meat eaten on a plain piece of bread, and a water. Upon mentioning "agua", Carlos started laughing, nudged my shoulder, and asked, "No, really, what do you want to drink?" To be quite honest, I truly wanted a glass of water. So that's what I said, but he insisted that I get something "better". He didn't give in until after I tried a sip of his cerveza y limon, beer with lemon soda. I had to make a conscious effort not to spit it out onto the floor. Not wanting to lie, I nodded my head and commented, "dulce,". Sweet.

We headed back over to the table. When I sat down I saw a new face had joined the group; he was a tall, stalky man, with a stubbly face and dark hair that swept across his face just above his eyes. He noticed me when I sat down, and said in a Portuguese accent, "Hello!" Carlos had told him I was an exchange student, and that I was playing soccer. We talked a bit, and as it happened, this guy used to play defense for Portugal. He quit, though, years ago when he met his wife and moved here, to Salamanca. He asked me if I was making friends. "Yes," I told him hesitantly, "but it's a little difficult". He nodded his head, and said slowly in rather broken English, "The people here are very closed. When I came here, no one was interested in me. Not until I started to playing padel," he added. "It's much more than a game." And with that, he got up and joined another party.

So what do padel and Patito Feo have to do with culture? I'm beginning to think of them like golf and Gossip Girl. People go to the padel club to catch up with their friends, to show off their new car, or to play a match with their boss. People watch Patito Feo because that kind of social turmoil doesn't exist in real life. Sounds pretty much like America. But there are some distinctions. For example, Patito Feo is about the equivalent of Gossip Girl, with sexual innuendos abound, but it's shown on Disney Channel, which leads me to the assumption that parents of younger children are less concerned about that than they are in the US. This assumption is also strengthened by some of the jokes my host parents tell at the dinner table.

In general it seems like here, everyone is a lot less judgmental about people enjoying themselves. You just told a really inappropriate joke in front of your eleven-year old... But it was really funny. You just smoked four cigarettes in half an hour... But you enjoyed it. You just ate a plate full of cholesterol... but it tasted good. I see these things, and I make judgments, but other people are a lot more laid back, and don't even notice. They don't have a lot of the social stigma that we do in the United States, and in a way, it's refreshing.

(ps, hi liz!)