Spain: Day 6

Hola a todos!

Tonight’s blog update is long, but I promise it’s worth the read. For this update, I decided to hyperlink photos and videos throughout the narrative.

We are staying in three separate houses/hostels 50-100 ft from each other in a small pueblo called Simancas, population 5,000. Simancas resides 20 minutes from the Castilla y León capital Valladolid, population 300,000, and it is nestled at the convergence of two rivers, the Rio Duero and the Rio Pisuerga. The pueblo is quiet and charming and perfect for avoiding tourism. Most of the chicas are staying in a posada: a six bedroom, seventeenth century house above a restaurant. Most of the chicos are staying in a four bedroom house complete with living room, kitchen, two gathering spaces, and a skylight that overlooks a cathedral. The third group (a mix of chicos and chicas and myself) is staying in a three bedroom hostel called “Las Tercias” that, admittedly, is not as cool as the other two houses. But I came prepared. To lift the spirits of this group, before the trip, we made luxury robes with “Las Tercias” written on the back with pearl letters. Our mindset has been positive as we have convinced ourselves we are living in a resort. Each house is responsible for one morning wake up song and dance for the other two houses, and “Las Tercias” went first. We rehearsed until past one in the morning last night, and our final product this morning was solid.

Awakened through song and dance, caffeinated, and stuffed with fruit, eggs, yogurt, cereal, and the best croissants of our life, we took a twenty-minute bus ride to a small town called Mucientes. Famous for its wine (specifically, rose), the town is covered with small mounds of land with brick chimneys poking through. These are underground bodegas, and most towns in wine regions have dozens of them because families used to have a cave-like basement under their houses or nearby to make their family wine stash. This fascinating scenery served as the backdrop for our visit to meet a special musician: Paco Díez.

“I don’t exactly know, but what I do know is that I am in spirit,” was Paco’s response this morning when asked if he is Jewish. In addition to saying he knows he looks Jewish, Paco says his ancestors were very Catholic, which he says is usually a sign of a family line being conversos falsos--Jews who were forced to convert and who practiced Catholicism zealously in public to cover their tracks when continuing their Judaism in secret. In any case, Paco is dedicated to Jewish cultures. “Being Jewish in spirit:” I know this feeling profoundly well.

Continuously traveling around the world (including Israel each year), Paco’s mission in life is to play Iberian music (much of it Sephardic) and spread a love for music in general. He plays literally every object that can be transformed into an instrument--like a thin piece of rye, a shoe turned into the base of a violin, cans, bottles, bones and of course every major instrument we recognize today. He reminded us that all it takes is imagination and seeing the potential of music in all things. I never grow tired of watching kids’ mouths drop when he plays and sings. Paco said, “Nosotros somos la música.” We are music. There is rhythm in the beating of our hearts, in the rising and falling of our chests as we breathe, and in our footsteps as we walk the earth. Our instrument lesson ended with singing Hatikvah as Paco played the bagpipes.

After playing over thirty instruments, we took a break and part of our group did a small wine tour of an underground bodega while the other part took a coffee and journaling break in the plaza mayor of Mucientes. I was in the latter group and had the best time taking in the view of the kids journaling, playing music, and sunbathing with their cafe con leches and cola-cao by their side.

We regrouped down the road in Paco’s private, underground seventeenth century bodega for lunch and singing. As if we weren’t already jealous enough of his musical skills, Paco is also an exceptional cook, even going as far to say that cooking for others is his biggest passion, not music. He views food as a communal activity, not an individual obligation. He slow roasted chicken for four and a half hours; it was unreal. As Paco’s wife taught us, when your belly is really full, you say you have a “curva de la felicidad”--- a happy curve. 

We spent our afternoon singing in Spanish, English, Ladino, and Hebrew. Jaren’s fingers flew as he riffed on the guitar, Scott played and sang our first group song of Vance Joy’s “Riptide,” Paco wiped tears from his eyes watching Stella sing her original music, and he whispered in my ear “what a beautiful voice” as Daniella sang a new song she will be recording for her first album. Juanito played Elvis on the piano and Rabbi Mayer played a song of peace on the guitar. I, too, sang Mexican artist Luis Miguel’s “Bésame Mucho,” dedicating the lyrics to the Israeli hostages and their devastated families who would do anything to kiss their loved ones again. I was a mess singing it, weighed down by a tragic reality I can’t change.

After lots of group singing of American classics, we finished our time with Paco by singing “Yerushalayim Shel Zahav.” 

Buenas noches.