Celery and Salsa

My flatmate supervises the celery harvests out here in Spain, and one day this week he invited me out with him to survey his “rigs”. I wasn’t entirely sure what this involved, other than it would surely be out of the office and into the field… so naturally I jumped at the offer. A rig, as it turns out, is a mobile contraption which appears to sail slowly along the field (in reality of course it has wheels, but they’re hidden by the crop), and in which work a team of harvesters. So, claggy, rich soil clinging to my boots, we tramped over already decimated celery plants in the wake of the rig in question, the air rich with the smell of celeriac roasting in the oven. My flatmate cut a celery plant for me and showed me how to look for signs of a bad crop and to look out for a whitish mould on the plants, which he warned me not to touch as it would provoke a rash. He told me that although the inner stalks would probably still be safe to eat, they would have a nasty taste. We hopped up the ladder as the rig was still moving – it felt like being aboard a ship - and I saw men cutting the celery under the rig, putting it on a conveyer belt at field-level. It then came up to the workers in the rig itself – about 12 in total - where they sorted it and piled it up and wrapped it ready for the supermarket shelves. These packets were placed into crates which were piled up and labelled ready for the warehouse. My flatmate showed me to question weight and quality of the products, and to check that health and safety rules were being adhered to. It was an interesting experience, and it was so wonderful to be outside and in the field… and I’ve since nabbed myself a copy of the “Celery Harvest Manual 2011” – a weighty tome of everything you would ever want to know about celery – for a little light bedtime reading. But anyway, I can’t complain. No doubt my time for the field will come, even if not in Spain! And I really don’t have the shoes for it out here, so maybe it’s just as well – I’ve made a proper old mess of my only pair of boots!!

So what is it that I do? Obviously for reasons of company confidentiality, I can’t give too much away, but now that I understand my role a little better, I can give you an idea. My working day starts at about 8:45 a.m., finishing at 7 p.m., with a 90 minute lunch break thrown in, and I’m in the office for 99% of that time. In the mornings I liase with hauliers and the depot that we send most of our produce to in the UK to try to make sure that the depot is prepared for the arrival of the lorries, and knows if there are delays. I also chase up any problems with discrepancies between what product was allegedly loaded here in Spain, and what actually arrived in the UK. This means liasing with various colleagues in the UK and in the despatch department here, staring at a lot of documents and dates and product codes, and trying to make sense of it all. It also means logging everything in Excel spreadsheets. In the afternoons I’m in charge of processing orders from the national customers in Spain, making sure the hauliers and warehouses know how many pallets of goods are needed at which supermarket depot and when. It’s very much an admin role. Though I know it’s not what I want to do eventually, I’m certainly learning a lot! And Christmas is our peak time, so the next month is set to get ever more hectic. I’ll be very ready for a holiday when it finally comes. 25 days to go….!

My gym-going is working out quite well. I went back to my crazy weight lifting class…

... and although I still didn’t say any more than “hola”, some of the others clearly recognised me from last week. Besides, it makes me feel strangely powerful. Maybe by the time I get to my next placement, this will be me....

I hope not, though!! That would be a little scary!!! I have also been twice now to a latin dance class – a bit of salsa, a bit of chachacha, a bit of folk dance, and that was really good fun. Everybody was smiley and laughing, and because a lot of the dancing is partner work, it should be easier to talk… although I’ve discovered that I don’t know what to talk about! Any ideas…? The only guy I managed to talk to properly was a pest-controller from Bradford (!!) - but as we were the only Brits in the class, I feel it doesn’t really count. I want to feel confident talking to the Spaniards. My challenge for next week: say something more than just pleasantries, even if only to one person.

On a Sunday morning jaunt with a couple of colleagues, I ended up driving down La Manga. If you don’t know what La Manga is, it’s a holiday destination, favoured by all from the rich and famous to the common man. It’s a thin spit of land, about half a kilometre across, reaching out into the Mediterranean Sea. It has one road leading down the spine of the spit, and this road is flanked with hotels that have seen better days, and shops selling touristy tat. On the other side of the buildings are beaches. The sea to the west is the Mar Menor, which is effectively a sea lagoon. It has no tides, and is connected to the Med by the smallest of channels. Because of this it is warmer than the Med, but also semi-stagnant to the point of being reasonably revolting. To the east is the Med itself, and these beaches, probably littered with tourist litter during the summer months, had a liberal November scattering of small jellyfish when I ventured onto them. Apologies to anybody who has been to La Manga and enjoyed it, but I just don’t see the attraction.

And speaking of lack of attraction, I saw the lead singer of 70’s band The Saxons sing this weekend. I had never heard of the Saxons, although apparently my mum saw them when she was in 6th form. Anyway, he was singularly unattractive, and fairly out of tune. He lives here apparently, and is well known here for his thrusting his tight trousers drunkenly at women, and for being stoned. So that’s this week’s claim to fame.

I’m looking forward to this week, and the beginning of Advent. Partially because this means beginning my advent calendar… my family has a rather curious tradition with advent calendars… all will be revealed next week! But also because I hope I will begin to experience Christmas from a Spanish perspective. I don’t know why, but I expect there to be obvious – and interesting - differences between December in the UK and in Spain. I know very little about Spanish traditions at present, so as I learn, I’ll let you know. Hasta luego!