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About




I lived in Spain for a total of eight years during the seventies and eighties. First location was El Puerto de Santa Maria, in the province of Cadiz. I later lived in Talavera de la Reina,  and then in Miami Playa, Tarragona. This blog is about some of the funny and perhaps not so funny incidents which took place during this time frame. The excerpts are not in any particular chronological order. My goal is to paint a picture in words of what life was like in Spain in the mid seventies and early eighties, albeit from a foreigner's point of view.

I graduated from Hamilton College of Education, Scotland with a diploma in Education. I later graduated from the University of Maryland with the B.A. in Psychology and from the University of Pittsburgh with the M.A. in Hispanic Language and Literature. I taught Spanish as adjunct faculty for several years in the Pittsburgh area.

Please contact me at graphs99@yahoo.com  Would love to hear from you!

Thanks for taking the time to look at my trip down memory lane.

 If you'd like to read some more, please feel free to check out my blog about life in the suburbs at La Vida Loca.

All written work and images, unless otherwise stated, are copyrighted sstaas. All rights reserved. 

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Strutting About, 1973, El Puerto de Santa Maria, Spain

It's late afternoon, 1973, in El Puerto de Santa Maria. I look out the window of the apartment at  the horses being trained for the Feria. A man has one tethered and he holds the strap loosely as the horse walks round and round in circles. It tries to get away, but the man pulls it back and soon the horse settles down. It starts to strut, lifting its hooves high off the ground. The Feria is one of the most important events of the whole year. It's a time for not just the horses to strut around, but for the people as well. The women wear brightly coloured dresses that flair out each time they move a leg, and the men are dressed in tight-fitting trousers and short jackets that make them look as if they're wearing their big brothers' hand-me-downs. I've been practising the Sevillanas dances with one of the teachers from the school. We attend a local church where they offer free dance classes. Pretty good, if you want my opinion. The instructor is this really skinn...

Sensory Pleasures – Rota, 1972 E BOOK

From Monday to Friday I was busy teaching at the bilingual school in El Puerto de Santa Maria. When I wasn't teaching I was studying Spanish and practising new vocabulary and verb tenses with the two Spanish teachers I lived with. Week-ends were completely different for that's when I got out and about and mixed with other foreigners.  On Saturday afternoons I made my way to Rota, to hang out with the Americans who worked on the Naval Base. There were also people from Australia, Great Britain, New Zealand, and Scandinavia who were travelling the world, just drifting around. It was bit like meeting characters from James Michener's book,'The Drifters', and I felt intrigued as if my nose and ears were tingling with sensory pleasures. There was the smell of Brut after-shave, Head and Shoulders shampoo and Dial soap as well-showered faces greeted guests, ready to entertain and be entertained. I couldn't tell the difference in accents between the Australians and...

Learning Spanish, Part Two - El Puerto de Santa Maria, Spain, 1972

1972, El Puerto de Santa Maria. I have a lovely sharpened pencil and a notebook, and I can't wait for my first Spanish lesson. The doorbell of the apartment rings and I meet my very own personal private tutor for the first time. He's a bit older than me, and a little bit taller. He has a beard and also has very nice teeth. "Agudas. This word is an aguda". He talks loudly and writes a word in my notebook, then underlines it. "This next word is a llana." He underlines it too. He has a  flair for underlining words. I haven't a clue what he's talking about. It's something to do with accent marks and pronunciation. I ask him that question that native speakers of English always ask any time they find themselves in a situation requiring even just a rudimentary knowledge of a foreign language, "Do you speak English?" His eyes twinkle and he grins broadly as he replies, "Why? What difference does it make?" His English is cer...