Valencia

Valencia, which is one of Spain's autonomous communities on the Mediterranean Sea on the eastern side of the country, is know for being the heartland of paella, a delicious dish combining rice and seafood in a plethora of different arrangements; horchata, a satisfyingly sweet drink made from the milk of a chufa, somewhat akin to an almond; and las Fallas, a celebration held every year in Valencia that lasts a week and includes a host of ceremonies and celebrations. I had the great fortune this year of going to las Fallas with Ana and her family, and Ali was able to come in the last minute, as well. We all had an amazing time.

Las Fallas are celebrated in honor of el día de San José (Saint Joseph's Day) which is also Father's Day in Spain given that Saint Joseph was the father of Jesus. The name "las fallas" derives from the fallas themselves which are enormous, papier-mache dolls and buildings that are put on display for their beauty and their oftentimes satirical political message and then eventually burnt like an enormous torch ("las fallas" comes from the Latin word meaning "torch"). Essentially, different groups of people in Valencia spend all year raising money and building these enormous fallas so that they can display them during this week of festivities and, with luck, win the best falla prize. Many of the fallas are crude and politically incorrect. In fact, Ali and I were shocked at how racist some of them seemed to our American sensibilities, and some of them were just a little vulgar, like one in which man's nose was a penis and his cheeks were two testicles. Every falla tries to be the most grandiose and the most beautiful, since each year only one falla is saved from the flame and wins a coveted place in a museum of all of the best fallas throughout the years. All the rest of them (and there are literally hundreds) are exploded and burned in the streets squares and street corners where they stationed at the end of the week.

The first day that we got into Valencia, we spent most of the day just walking around and seeing all of the different fallas. Some of them were stunning in their size and their intricacy. Some of them were stunning because of the crassness of their message. Overall, I was extraordinarily impressed. I had done research about las Fallas before going to witness the spectacle, but in reality I had no idea how large and magnificent these papier-mache structures actually were. Unfortunately, the fallas are always burned on midnight of Saint Joseph's Day, and since we all worked the next morning and Valencia is about 5 hours away from Madrid, we weren't able to stay to witness what would have been some incredible bonfires. Though I didn't see this first hand, I read that the fires get so hot that firefighters spray water on the surrounding buildings as a preventative measure lest they catch fire, given that the fallas are burned right where they are stationed, in the middle of streets and in the random plazas (town squares) throughout the town. Here are some photos to help illustrate what a falla truly is.

One of my favorite fallas was this Parisian
scene: a heterosexual couple dancing in
the center and the Moulin Rouge visible
to the lower left.

This falla of a beautiful woman's head also had fauns and
fairies in her hair and a choir of flowers singing off to the
right. The people in the photo help to capture how enormous
the fallas truly are.

Our spectacular view of the beach

Besides the fallas, we all had an amazing time in Valencia doing other things. The apartment that we rented was on the eighteenth floor of a tall building right next to the beach, so we had a beautiful view of the Mediterranean Sea during all of our meals. Ana and I went for two 30 minute runs along the beach under the stars, and it was amazing to stretch in the sand of the Mediterranean after a workout on the beach in Spain. We all indulged our sybaritic sides a little bit, as well, by savoring delicious meals of paella and slow gulps of sweet horchata. It was a wonderful, relaxing experience.


Valencia is a typical Spanish town in that it has some beautiful architecture and a gorgeous cathedral where the Holy Grail, the cup out of which Jesus purportedly drank before his death, is putatively held. Unfortunately, due to the unbelievably dense crowds and the non-stop processions of local valencianos dressed up in traditional costumes and marching with bands in parades, the cathedral was cordoned off and impossible to access. In additional to archaic and majestic architecture, Valencia is also home to a group of extremely new, large buildings that together constitute La ciudad de las artes y de las ciencias, the city of arts and sciences. These modern buildings house museums, archives, and expositions. The largest aquarium in Europe is in Valencia in this "city," and we all decided that it was worth our time to go investigate. It ended up being beautiful and something quite akin to Sea World. We saw sharks float overhead in a tunnel-shaped aquarium, we saw a beautiful tank full of translucent yet shimmering jellyfish, and the highlight of the experience was seeing the dolphin show.

Dolphins are some of the most mind-blowing creatures I have ever seen. I am so impressed by their physical agility and their mental acuity that makes them capable of responding to human signs and memorizing a human-designed choreography. While I was thrilled by the dolphin show, I also experienced it with a tremendous pang of guilt because of what I know about dophin's and their captivity from a documenary called The Cove. The Cove seeks to expose how the Japanese fishing industry corrals and confuses dolphins, hunts these intelligent and social creatures mercilessly, looking for docile dolphins that they then capture and sell for big bucks to dolphin shows like the one that I had paid to support. The documentary argues that dolphins don't have nearly enough space in these small aquariums (which are nothing like the sea, in reality) and that the dolphins in these shows die young because they are away from their natural habitat and isolated from their communities. I know that the documentary was extreme, and I know that documentaries, like all argumentative rhetoric, focus on convincing their audience by presenting only one-sided evidence. Nevertheless, The Cove was a powerful film, and I probably should not have spent money to perpetuate the torture of these animals. On the other end of the spectrum, however, is the argument most eloquently (and interestingly) proposed in Life of Pi, the argument being that animals in a zoo have the best animal life possible, since they are freed from the possibility of starvation and being eaten alive, which are standard threats for an animal in the wild. Being an animal in a zoo might be like being a human with a life-long supply of food and a mansion in Hollywood. I don't have a fixed opinion about this and would love for any of my readers to opine accordingly. Are dolphin shows and zoos fair, or are they unethical? Do they encourage us to understand and respect non-human life forms more, or do they just abuse those life forms for humans' consumption and disposal? I'm still seeking my answer.

Valencia was wonderful. I was able to deepen my friendships, experience a very unique aspect of Spanish culture, and be a gastronomical epicurean. I will leave Spain temporarily next week to go to Serbia, so my next post will be an update on yet another culture completely different than the culture here in Spain. My adventure continues!

A perfect summary of what Valencia meant to me: delicious
paella (the black one is made with octopus ink!), a restaurant
literally next to the beach, and most importantly, good
friendship. Starting with me moving counter clockwise: Bob,
with a lop-sided grin; Ali, the amazing San Franciscan; Ángel, el
pequeño sherpa; Ana, whom I work with; and their daughter, Vega.