Buenos días!
Today is Mother's Day in Spain and I thought now would be the perfect opportunity for me to tell you a little bit about my incredible host mother, Candelas Días Casillas. Not only is she is an amazing cook and master seamstress, but more importantly, she has taught me some of the most valuable life lessons I have ever learned.
Candelas was born in 1948 in a small village in the province of Salamanca called Horcajo Medianero. Her father was a farmer and as such, she says that her family lived relatively well because they were able to keep enough of what they needed to sustain themselves. Her father raised hens and pigs and sold them for meat and he grew wheat an many other things. From a very young age Candelas learned all about pig anatomy and how to make chorizo. I too now know more about pigs than I ever thought I would. She says that her family ate very well, especially compared to some very poor people in the village who, sometimes when her father went to harvest potatoes, would come and scramble for the tiny ones that fell out of his basket or that he left behind.
At the age of 9 or 10, Candelas began working on the farm. Her father, although affectionate, was quite strict and instilled Candelas with a strong work ethic from a very young age. She describes how she would ride a donkey out to the pastures to her father and the workers. She says that she was raised to work from such a young age that it’s what she’s accustomed to…that the work she did when she was younger seems much more taxing than the work she does now. She attended school until the age of 14 when she left to help her mother and father on the farm full-time. Looking back, she says she never even entertained the idea of going to University, let alone finishing high school. She says that she would have loved to go to school to study fashion design or business, but that under the fascist dictatorship of Franco (my words, not hers) and the hardships her family would later face, the thought never even occurred to her.
Every Sunday, there was a village dance that you had to be 16 years old to enter. Candelas was anxiously awaiting her 16th birthday so that she could get a new dress and go to the dance. Sadly, she was never able to attend. Shortly after she turned 16 her father suddenly passed away and her world was turned upside-down. Without her father, they could no longer afford to keep their property in the village. They had to move to the city of Salamanca and Candelas had to work as her mother's work alone was not enough to support her and her two younger sisters. At the age of 16 she began cleaning the residence halls of the Pontificia University and she hasn't stopped working since.
Candelas has lived a hard life, but what I find to be even more inspiring about her is the way she faces the difficulties that come her way. She is honest with herself - sometimes in the morning when we've finished eating breakfast she says, "Bueno, a la lucha diaría" (Well, to the daily struggle). She recognizes that life is a battle and with a smile and a sigh she faces it each and every day. She is optimistic - always talking about how lucky she is to have her health, her family and everything that she needs. She is emphatic about shouldering her own burden - she works every morning cleaning houses in the neighborhood and then cooks two meals a day for me and my housemate Nora. Sometimes her two grandchildren come to eat with us too because her daughter works long hours at hard job and cannot afford to take off work for lunch. Whether Canelas is cooking for 2, 5 or 9 people, whenever we offer to help her set or clear the table, the answer is always the same: "No hija, no, no! No te preocupes! Yo soy acostumbrada a trabajar" (No, daughter, no no! Don't worry! I am accustomed to work). And despite everything, she is always in good spirits - when she cooks or cleans she sings songs to herself and she will certainly be the first one to crack a joke, especially about her younger sister Manuela.
To me, Candelas embodies the essence of everything Spanish. She is stubbornly set in her ways, humble - when it comes to anything except her grandchildren - incredibly hardworking, conservative and frank, yet affable and full of life. She has taught me so much about sorrow, love and life over these past few months. I will miss her terribly when I leave Salamanca and although I do not know if we will see each other again, I will always carry the fondest memories of her with me.
Today is Mother's Day in Spain and I thought now would be the perfect opportunity for me to tell you a little bit about my incredible host mother, Candelas Días Casillas. Not only is she is an amazing cook and master seamstress, but more importantly, she has taught me some of the most valuable life lessons I have ever learned.
Candelas was born in 1948 in a small village in the province of Salamanca called Horcajo Medianero. Her father was a farmer and as such, she says that her family lived relatively well because they were able to keep enough of what they needed to sustain themselves. Her father raised hens and pigs and sold them for meat and he grew wheat an many other things. From a very young age Candelas learned all about pig anatomy and how to make chorizo. I too now know more about pigs than I ever thought I would. She says that her family ate very well, especially compared to some very poor people in the village who, sometimes when her father went to harvest potatoes, would come and scramble for the tiny ones that fell out of his basket or that he left behind.
At the age of 9 or 10, Candelas began working on the farm. Her father, although affectionate, was quite strict and instilled Candelas with a strong work ethic from a very young age. She describes how she would ride a donkey out to the pastures to her father and the workers. She says that she was raised to work from such a young age that it’s what she’s accustomed to…that the work she did when she was younger seems much more taxing than the work she does now. She attended school until the age of 14 when she left to help her mother and father on the farm full-time. Looking back, she says she never even entertained the idea of going to University, let alone finishing high school. She says that she would have loved to go to school to study fashion design or business, but that under the fascist dictatorship of Franco (my words, not hers) and the hardships her family would later face, the thought never even occurred to her.
Every Sunday, there was a village dance that you had to be 16 years old to enter. Candelas was anxiously awaiting her 16th birthday so that she could get a new dress and go to the dance. Sadly, she was never able to attend. Shortly after she turned 16 her father suddenly passed away and her world was turned upside-down. Without her father, they could no longer afford to keep their property in the village. They had to move to the city of Salamanca and Candelas had to work as her mother's work alone was not enough to support her and her two younger sisters. At the age of 16 she began cleaning the residence halls of the Pontificia University and she hasn't stopped working since.
Candelas has lived a hard life, but what I find to be even more inspiring about her is the way she faces the difficulties that come her way. She is honest with herself - sometimes in the morning when we've finished eating breakfast she says, "Bueno, a la lucha diaría" (Well, to the daily struggle). She recognizes that life is a battle and with a smile and a sigh she faces it each and every day. She is optimistic - always talking about how lucky she is to have her health, her family and everything that she needs. She is emphatic about shouldering her own burden - she works every morning cleaning houses in the neighborhood and then cooks two meals a day for me and my housemate Nora. Sometimes her two grandchildren come to eat with us too because her daughter works long hours at hard job and cannot afford to take off work for lunch. Whether Canelas is cooking for 2, 5 or 9 people, whenever we offer to help her set or clear the table, the answer is always the same: "No hija, no, no! No te preocupes! Yo soy acostumbrada a trabajar" (No, daughter, no no! Don't worry! I am accustomed to work). And despite everything, she is always in good spirits - when she cooks or cleans she sings songs to herself and she will certainly be the first one to crack a joke, especially about her younger sister Manuela.
To me, Candelas embodies the essence of everything Spanish. She is stubbornly set in her ways, humble - when it comes to anything except her grandchildren - incredibly hardworking, conservative and frank, yet affable and full of life. She has taught me so much about sorrow, love and life over these past few months. I will miss her terribly when I leave Salamanca and although I do not know if we will see each other again, I will always carry the fondest memories of her with me.
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| At the final mandatory meeting w/IES they announced the winners of this semester's photo contest. There were 5 categories - orientation, IES excursions, social life, academic life and family life. This photo of me and Candelas in the Plaza Mayor on Palm Sunday won 1st prize for family life!
One last thing: Not only do I feel incredibly lucky to have Candelas as my host mother, but also to have Dena as my real mother. Sitting with the two of them by my side was a very special moment for me this semester.
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| I feel so lucky to have such wonderful mothers! |
Feliz día de la madre a todos! (Happy Mother's day, everyone!)
AB
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