an herbal surprise

One aspect to learning a culture is to intertwine oneself into the culture to see how the people feel in general about topics we Americans may take for granted. I feel it safe to say that the whole Palestine v. Israel conflict has shed a new light on itself after talking with the people and seeing how the media portrays the situation. The ideal of kids leaving the home, marriage, having kids out of wedlock (esp. in such a predominately catholic state) all seemed to be refreshing and puzzling at the same time. But the one subject that really blows my mind is the general feeling towards drugs and alcohol. The general impression for the both are not in any way related or grouped together, forgive me for misleading you with my last statement. We will treat them in separate and different lights.

Alcohol, the drink of the Gods, is seemingly adored and coveted here on the same level as water being a necessity for survival. Not one Spanish home is without at least one bottle of red wine, especially in the home of the older generation. Spain is a very big wine producing country importing from France and Italy but exporting their varieties as well. From the drier and arid south to the mountainous and humid north to the saturated lands of the Atlantic Ocean, the types are just as wide and varied as in America. But of course, the Spaniards think Americans are far off the mark when it comes to wine production , as told to me by my father in law who is an expert on wine drinking...not wine tasting, but drinking. Mind you he is my litmus test when it comes to most things Spanish or Catalan.

I still remember how I felt and internally reacted when I had lunch with this pillar of the grave vine, and he ordered a bottle of wine. He insisted I drink some with him since he could not possibly drink the whole thing by himself (which he later made a liar out of himself as his eyes drew a tear when he finished the last swig of the magic elixir). I was just floored that the ordering of a bottle of wine was so fluid and almost expected for a midday meal. This was no McDonald's but still, my mind went back to days of having lunches and my coworkers and I laughed about ordering a rare midday margarita. And speaking of McDonalds, there is beer on the menu.

For just about every meal, I see wine as a selection for your drinking palette. Now I won't stretch the truth and claim to have seen the local drunks enjoying a Merlot over their corn flakes. But I notice it is not uncommon to see the locals taking in an alcoholic beverage in many of the sidewalk cafes in our town or others. Beer is pretty common while wine is saved more so by the glass or the whole bottle for a meal either during lunch or dinner. I still cannot say I have grown accustomed to wine, even though my father pushes it on me like a neighborhood crack dealer while still claiming he cannot finis the whole bottle by himself.

Drugs on the other hand carry pretty much the same social stigma to a point. I have gotten pretty chummy with a few of the local police officers. One in particular works night pretty much as the coast guard does. He told me I would not believe the amount of drugs being smuggled into small coastal towns like our in the dead of cloudy or moonless nights. I also heard from one of my soccer team kids (and I am not sure how much weight I can put on this statement) but Tossa is one of the largest drug spots in Spain. I am not sure to what extent or which drugs are coming thru our shores while my family lay motionless in deep sleep.

The overall social feelings pretty much run the same for heroin and cocaine. LSD is pretty much not spoken of but I am sure there are some kinds of ecstasy floating around in the neighboring town, Lloret, due to the influx of young people who come to dance the night away in what seems like hundreds of nightclubs. The billboards alone seem to rival that of Times Square, advertising the many local and national DJs who travel to play their brand of hypnotic trance and electronic music. But on drug seems to have a somewhat dissimilar take than what I am used to in America.

Sorry, I have to backtrack. Tobacco is sold in controlled and licensed stores where alcohol is sold almost anywhere! This is "bass-ackwards" to this Virginia boy whose ABC stores seemed to shelf the only option for your weekend barbecue, nightly binges or holiday festivities. What's a President's Day without Tanguray? Where, outside Ukrops, you can find cigarettes in any corner store. Still hey have tobacco vending machines in most restaurants and bars, a throwback to the way America used to be.

Marijuana is seen as a recreational drug, like in the states. But I think we handle it a bit differently back home. Sure, in any tobacco store, you can find rolling paper on display, but that doesn't necessarily mean you smoke pot, since many here still like to roll their own cigarettes. Just because tier is glue on the shelf doesn't mean you don't sniff it, now does it? But I was surprised to see a shop here in Tossa selling pretty much anything you need to complete you weed smoking needs. The guy who owns and runs it is a local figure, looking more like the popular image of Jesus Christ with his thin pale frame, long brown hair and goatee. On any day you will find him in his usual "hippy" clothing, blasting his Bob Marley CDs just loud enough to catch your attention when passing his door. He is a nice fellow but I have not spent much time getting to know him. In his store front window, he has all types of gear and paraphernalia like bongs, pipes, as well as T-shirts with great weed smoking slogans on them. I am just too nervous to enter.

With popular movies like the Cheech and Chong sagas, to half Baked and Friday's trilogy, we Americans find humor in Mary Jane. We seem to be accepting of those actors and singers who openly talk about or allude to the fact that they puff, puff, give. The Chronic was a hell of an album that no one can seem to take in if fully toasted. Still we debate or the mere use of medicinal marijuana to ease the ill of out cancer patients going thru chemotherapy. We let Dave Chappell entertain us with his lifestyles but cannot allow the sick to ease their ills to a tolerable point.

I soon had a call to visit a client in their office and from her balcony, I saw on an adjacent rooftop from her office balcony, several marijuana plants growing. We shared a laugh at how his other potted plants were doing so poorly in the Spanish summer heat, but his pot pots were flourishing like no one's business. I made note to talk to my police friends and I learned that it is legal for you to have 2 potted plants per adult per house. My eyes glared and I did the simple math to come up with 4 possible variations next early spring to begin my journey in the culture I am so eagerly learning about.

I am nothing of a pothead. I admit I have enjoyed the spoils and labor of other farmers who have so loving taken the time, care and patience with one of the ugliest plants I have ever seen. Still my mind wonders how the first humans discovered the spoils of this potent plant. I would imagine the first cavemen pyromaniac to just walk around aimlessly in the woods, setting things on fire and inadvertently causing a chain reaction which would have him inventing the munchies a few minutes once he inhaled the sweet aroma of its smoke. Or some caveman, well rooted in the doghouse for ticking off his cave woman counterpart, coming across this strange and aromatic plant to use as a way back into the heart of the woman he loved. Only to return to his tribe to find she is shacked up with someone new so in defiance and anger he sets it on fire. Pretty soon nothing else matters in his world and he has all but forgotten the heartache he felt before and her sister is looking much better than ever before. But unfortunately he is too relaxed to get up and do anything about it. But I think this caveman did invent Doritos in the process.

Still the general social feeling to marijuana is not so accepted as in America. Surely, back home, we do not want our doctors to take a few puffs in the lounge before doing a surgery, or our airline pilots to get a quick taste before landing on a snowy runway while low on fuel. Just like we see potheads to be spacey and a little too relaxed and lost, Spaniards in general also see these potheads to be the same way but there is a distinctive difference in the toleration. Where we might laugh and make movies about the subject, The Spanish seem to be a bit more polarized in such a recreational drug. It is truly a matter of the have and the have not. I often enjoy Carme "warning" me on the people who are known pot users and yes, I do not see any cure for disease or Nobel Peace prize coming anytime soon from them, but she is also letting me know who I need to be friends with inadvertently. Armed with this knowledge and now a new set of Spanish vocabulary, I began my personal quest for some bud.

So I got a catalog from the local Bohemian shop and my eyes grew and moth watered at the many varieties of seeds being offered. They ranged from the not so pricey to the "taking out a loan to afford them" kind. My eyes were fixated on the ones in the middle range with the average amount of THC in them. Again I am no lightweight but I am definitely not a heavyweight and will stay in the welterweight division with no plans on bulking up in the future. So far this quest to become my own farmer by next spring as led me into a whole new set of vocabulary and meeting new, spacey and forgetful people who, luckily, seem to tolerate my language skills all the more than a sober person would. I am sure I will document my adventures after the first frost so stay tuned. I am just a little bit sad it took me two years to find out this wonderful herbal surprise!