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September 26, 2007

The New Wilderness

I had heard rumors of a bar in the old section of Logroño called Embrujo where the foreign exchange students like hangout. According to the the city demographics my chances of meeting an English speaking foreigner here are very slim so I decided to try take any action to push the odds in my favor and to go and find that bar. Luis was more interested in staying at the office than to go out on a quest to find more English speakers, as I believe at times I am enough of a challenge for him, so I set off alone.

It was Wednesday night so the streets of the old section were very quiet. I had heard from my co-worker Carlos that most everything, including this bar I was seeking, was likely to be closed. As I walked up the street I saw a "kebob" place was open and serving a few of Logroño's more exploratory youth. I made a mental note to return there if I didn't find anything better.

I walked for a bit and paused to look up at the old, beautiful buildings. I took a little time for myself to appreciate where I was. Logroño is, at it's very heart, a very beautiful old city.

I turned the corner and up a narrow street. Was that a group of students in the distance? I thought I saw backpacks and messenger bags. A cat came running up the darkened street, breaking my attention.

I rounded another corner toward Calle de Mayor and toward the old Cinema Moderna. Little closed doorways to little closed establishments were everywhere. One and then another, some more steps up the cobblestones and finally an orange glow and old wood: Embrujo! It was empty save for a young bar man and his friends who were smoking and joking together at the front of the house.

I touched the wood and closed my eyes to remember the route. My stomach panged for food and so I headed back for a gyro. I asked for a "shwarma con los todos y mucho salsa picante por favor" and the Pakistani man instantly asked me from what country I was from in perfect English. English! I asked him in Spanish if he knew that I was foreign because I liked my food spicy. We discussed the finer points of sub-continental cuisine, the relatively bland Spanish palette, as well as the rampant xenophobia in Logroño.

He told me of a Pakistani restaurant that was near my office. He told me of a private school that taught foreigners like me Spanish part time. He offered to show me both places if I returned tomorrow at around 6, before he had to open the shop for dinner. I ate my food, thanked him, and set off to try a drink at Embrujo before taking the long walk home.

On my way to the bar I started to feel oddly guilty. I felt guilty for wishing at times for this city to be more cosmopolitan, to be more globalized. I had a realization that it was a beautiful thing that in modern Europe there can exist a place of nearly a couple hundred thousand people that still have their monoculture, their traditions: they still have festival where the entire town attends, two brothers who crush grapes with their feet for more than 30 years still are the ones who crush the grapes into must for everybody, and this first must made from the collective offerings of the entire region are still offered to the virgin as it has been for who knows how many centuries. So what if they call a gyro a kebab?

I reached into my pocket to see how much change I had. I thought back to earlier this morning when I was buying bread at the supermarket and I saw an old woman pour out her coin purse onto the counter, frustrated at being unable to count the strange Euro coins more efficiently. She probably still converts everything to pesetas in her head.

At Embrujo I was still the only one in the bar. I ordered a Vodka and asked for some olives. I sat silently and watched the barman and his friends roll cigarettes and laugh with each other. As I drank I began to look around and then I noticed all of the postcards and currency from new friends from all over the world honoring old memories from Logroño, tacked up into the old Spanish hardwood.

Posted by jordanh at September 26, 2007 3:29 PM

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