We are finally getting into the Spanish schedule by accepting that 8:00 pm is when things really start happening. We feel a little self conscious all together with our blonde hair. Mostly we see families with smaller children, then it breaks into groups of teenage boys, groups of teenage girls, older women, and older men. We can tell that people are starting to recognize us as we stand out walking around together. Bernardo, the guy that takes care of our pool, came over last night briefly, dressed all in red. We thought it a little odd, but are not yet at the point where we can question anyone's choices. We went into town around 8:30 and it was evident that more than the usual promenade was going on. Cars were parked in every open lot and on all open roads. People were streaming into the heart of town from all the edges. We joined the stream of walkers until we hit massive wooden barriers blocking the streets. We discovered that all the streets in the middle of town were blocked off by these barriers that still allowed people to slip in. The streets were full of men and boys dressed all in red, like Bernardo had been. As we stood by a barrier trying to decipher
what was happening, a big black bull stepped into the road and all the men started running. The bull charged straight for us and stopped at the barrier. The men were all cheering and egging him on. When the bull lost interest and walked to a different street, people streamed through the barriers and followed the bull. Families and little kids went in and walked the streets. Nobody seemed to be too concerned that a bull could be around the next corner. Two more bulls were eventually brought in before people started losing interest. After the bulls were taken away, families started coming into the blocked off streets to have their evening meals at 10:00 pm. They set up long tables and talked and drank while their kids ran around. As we strolled through these public areas, turned personal by the blocked roads, we felt like we were walking through someone's living room. This evening wasn't planned. All we did was show up in our little town only to discover a common occurrence that seemed completely foreign to us.
Sally and her family moved to Spain for a year from July 2017 - July 2018. They lived in a little town called Puzol, which is about 20km north of Valencia. Her kids, Carson and Celia, attended the American School of Valencia, an International School located in Puzol. The goal for the whole family was to experience another way of life, and learn Spanish.