A feast and a new city (Baiona and Vigo, Spain)

Yesterday I went to the docks earlier than usual, because I had a goal that would be difficult to achieve: I wanted to ask Juan Jose if he would take me on his boat the next morning (at 5:00 am!). I felt uncomfortable, because I knew that it was a huge favor to ask and also because, I noticed immediately, I´d have an audience of about seven old men (the retired fishermen come to the docks to help the fishermen who are still working -- a lovely community) whose eyebrows would surely shoot up -- I am, to them, such a GIRL. Lifting heavy things might damage me, as might strong waves or the sight of dying fish. But really: I´d probably be a nuisance at the very least, another responsibility, and a danger at the worst if I got in the way of something. After hanging out for a while and chatting with another Juan Jose (all three men cleaning the hooks were Juan Jose; Juan Jose #1 goes by Galo, Juan Jose #2 goes by Ge-ge, and I never caught Juan Jose #3´s nickname), I finally asked Galo if I could go fishing with him. No! he said. It is against the law and he would be fined: he can´t even take his son with him. Alas! But the explanation made me feel better. I wonder how to get around this in the future . . .

However, Ge-ge (pronounced ´Heh-heh´) told me that he and a friend were going to go collect clams later, and did I want to come? Of course!! His friend ended up staying behind for a doctor´s appointment, but Ge-ge and I got into a little rowboat and he expertly steered us to another dock, were we tied up the boat and got off. We went around looking for clusters of clams on the underwater metal and wood, and, when we found them, he used a special metal-pronged rake with an attached basket to pry off the clusters and catch them as they drifted down. We filled the bottom of the rowboat with clams (a lot of clams!) and then went back out to the water, where we separated and cleaned them and tossed the small (lucky) ones back into the water. Messy work -- my arms and legs were covered in mud and bits of algae by the time we finished. And I kept getting distracted by other animals! Each clam shell was like a little coral reef! I picked off marine worms, sea urchins, star fish, shrimp, fish eggs (complete with little fishy eyes), something that looked like a tiny transparent centipede, sea flowers, oysters . . . Amazing. Ge-ge told me about his life as a fisherman on a tuna boat -- they would be at sea for four months, back home for two, then back to sea for four, etc. He had just come back from his last trip two weeks ago. It seems that most fishermen have done this kind of fishing for a while, at least; it is grueling work (sunup to sundown), but they can retire at 55. Also, Ge-ge told me that the sea was like a hook, and he was caught. I´m sure that the retired fishermen who come to the docks every day would say the same. When we went back to the other dock, the other two Juan Joses were waiting, and we split the clams among us. ´Take these back to your hostel-keepers and tell them to teach you how to cook them!´ Ge-ge told me. So I did!

Pura, Jorge and their daughter ______ (I think that, at first meetings, people should introduce themselves at least ten times over the course of the conversation) were in the kitchen when I got back, and I showed them my catch -- they were very impressed. I felt like such a successful hunter-gatherer. Pura of the Big Heart said that of course she´d show me how to prepare them, and she invited me to eat a late lunch with them and their other daughter, ______ (again!). We steamed the clams with seawater, took them out of their shells, and put them in a sauce made of onions, peppers, and white wine. My big grocery bag full of clams was reduced to a little plate (but a tasty little plate). And then I had lunch with the whole family! They are so wonderful! Both daughters are in their thirties and talk a lot, as does their mother; their father doesn´t talk a lot, but when he does, he talks VERY LOUDLY, and they made fun of him for that. There was a lot of laughter at the table, and a lot of good food (Pura had made meat and potatoes and rice, and we had ice cream cake for dessert -- this was all decadent to me, since I´ve been eating mostly bread and creamy cheese). They told me that now I ´knew´ them -- that I could feel at home whenever I was back.

The rest of the afternoon I spent walking to and along Playa America, which is very long and shiny. The sand is like glitter. I also passed the Rio Mino estuary, which was full of cranes and ducks and little fishies and reeking mud which had been baking in the sun and boats stuck in the reeking mud.

This morning I left Baiona -- the whole family came to say goodbye, and told me to send them a postcard when I got back to the U.S. (I warned them that it would be a while). Pura was like a mother: ´Do you want food for the trip? Let me walk you to the bus station! Are you sure you´re not forgetting anything? Be safe! Write so that we know you made it back home!´ How kind. When I got to Vigo I trekked all the way from the bus stop to the train station (I would whine but I won´t), hoping to leave my bag there for the afternoon so that I could explore -- but they don´t allow that anymore. So now I am going to explore rolling my backpack behind me! I´ll have the strongest arms in the world tomorrow.