adaptability

I answered a question about Canadian eating habits last week. My student stared back at me. "Only?" she said. She stumbled over the English words to explain that she has breakfast at 8am, a snack at noon, lunch at 3pm, another snack after siesta at 5pm, and dinner at 10:30pm, before bed. "Five comidas!"

Not to mention the plate of meatballs or fries or olives or peanuts that come free with your pre/post dinner beer.

Or the coffee and churros the teacher who is getting married buys for his colleagues.

It's no wonder that she thinks Canadians don't eat enough.

I have happily adapted myself to my new circumstances. Not that I had much choice in the matter -- I leave for school at 8am and don't return until 2pm. There is no cafeteria (or lunch break for that matter) at school, just a snack bar that makes its money selling coffee to the teachers and bocadillos (sandwiches on mini-baguettes) to the students.

At 2pm I start thinking about lunch. As several previous North American assistants were careful to warn me, you have to COOK in Spain. None of this prepared food business -- you have to go through the whole thing yourself, from buying 'ingredients' to washing the dishes. And all of that -- who knew -- takes time.

(I laughed all three times former assistants made this disclaimer -- it was less of a newsflash about Spain and more of a revelation about American lifestyles, but to their credit they were just trying to be helpful.)

By 3pm I am eating, usually in front of the news. The time the news is on is always a good way to establish the standard meal times (at noon in Montreal, at 1pm in Portugal, at 3 here). After a bit I switch to channel four where there are possibly three episodes of Friends, dubbed in Spanish for my personal entertainment.

Then I doze.

There's not much else to do -- all the shops closed at 2pm and I'm usually quite tired.

At 5pm the streets start to bustle again. And if you think just because I'm in a small city there is no bustle, think again. I have to fight my way past prams and bicycles to make it to the grocery store or close enough to admire shoes. Entire families and packs of children turn out until about 9pm, when the stores close.

I stroll home with the rest, just in time to get settled and start working on that 10:30pm dinner.

This, as my American friend and I commented over our breakfast of churros and hot chocolate, is adaptability.