Can people change?

It's really just as useless a question as "what is our purpose in life"? There's really no way of knowing for sure and yet we're forced to make a decision in order to go on with life. Everyone at some point has to make a decision about a person's ability to change. But even when you finally do come to your decision, the examples of persons you used for the basis of your decision may not be the best examples. The evidence could be flawed. People who you thought changed perhaps are only acting or are only temporarily swayed. People who don't seem to be able to change may not have arrived at a motivation to change. So, really, our answer to the question doesn't matter. It only matters that you have an answer.

I'm sure my ideas about this will change, be tweaked and completely evolve with time. For now, though, I've made my decision. Some people can change. Others can't.

Of course, no one can have it all. People who are capable of changing themselves, who have maliable dispositions or ways of thinking are capable of becoming better or worse people. Not everyone changes for the better.

People who can't change are limited. Some situations and experiences require and sometimes even depend on a individual's flexibility. On the other hand, it seems peoople who can't change, at least when they know they are incapable of changing, know what they require from life and make sure to surround themselves with what is capable of change and what they know they need. And maybe they have things a little more figured out than others. Then again, not every person incapable of change needs to change. Their lives may be better off by not changing.

What you decide may not be the right answer but it will become the basis of who you keep and let go of in your life. You can either tolerate or let go of the people who can't change. You can wait on as little or as long as you want on those you believe can change.

Either way we're fucked. What happens when you're not sure if a person can change? Letting them go sucks. Waiting around to see if the person will ever find something worth changing for could suck even more.

Can people change? I'm sure I think about this way too often. What is it that I'm going to live my life by? It's funny that what I don't think about as often is which kind of person I am. Can I change? Do I need to? Am I missing out on something if I can't? Would I be worse off if I can and do change?

So... I've diluted myself into thinking I've found my answer. It doesn't really change anything and doesn't quench my desire for truth. But everyone has to decide on something. It's part of growing up. I guess.

Pa amb Tomàquet (Pan con Tomate)

I think I’ll write about Spain in increments. Instead of telling you about about how my trip went, it’ll be less daunting to share some experiences instead. I’ll start tonight by forwarding some knowledge. The best kind. Food Knowledge. Skip down to the bottom for the recipe.

If the food in Spain is anything, it’s fresh, wherever you go. Even if it’s not authentic, it’s at least fresh. Food is important to the Spaniard and if you’re going to eat, why not eat good every time. For food being such an important part of the culture, only 10% of Spanish land is considered excellent for crop growing. However, Catalonia, the region of Spain that Barcelona and Tarragona belong to has a climate that makes the land versatile and allows for diverse agriculture. Tomatoes and olives (olive oil) are one of the principal crops.

Dining in Tarragona was a challenge. Since the three of us (my sister Paula, her friend Betzy and I) had educated ourselves on language, culture and especially food of Spain, we knew too well when we were being fed tourist food and when the food was authentically from Spain or from the region. We traveled across three main areas of Tarragona. Our lodging was in Salou and we took a bus daily past La Pineda and into the city center area, Tarragona. Salou and La Pineda are rich in beautiful beach shoreline but also heavy in tourists from the U.S. and Europe which made it difficult to find food that wasn’t geared towards tourists. We did our best to seek out the good stuff and as you get closer to the city center and the shoreline near the city center, you find more authentic places, but it does take some searching. We found an excellent little restaurant right outside the Tarragona market with a fantastic tapas bar.

This brings me to the experience that accompanies this food knowledge forward. Catalonia, as most other autonomous communities of Spain have a very distinct language, culture and gastronomical traditions. Every region is proud and very particular about who is considered a true part of their region and who isn’t. While there is no real prejudice, there is sometimes a sense of separatism or even snobbery that accompanies regional, and especially Catalan pride. But for every rude Spaniard we almost immediately found one (all of them were men) that more than made up for it in kindness, charm or both.

We read about a restaurant called Ares in our little guide book. We bought our TarraGO!na cards in advance. This gave us access free admission to many of the museums, discounts on stores and restaurants and for free bus rides. “modern Catalan cuisine. Vinoteca: wine tasting, tapas and miniportions” . It was a little difficult to find but it was more than worth it.

We arrived and were first served wine, water, a plate of small slices of toasted French bread, another plate with tiny tomatoes and cloves of garlic, an oil vat and a small saucer of sea salt. Each of us proceeded to take one of each. You pour some olive oil, add some salt, cut the tomato and eat it all with the bread, maybe take tiny bite of garlic, right? Wrong. Betzy sat there trying so hard to cut her tiny tomato with her butter knife and it kept sliding all over the place. The guy sitting next to us looked over and smiled to himself but was most likely laughing to himself. By then my sister had just eaten her tomato like an apple. The waiter came to refill our water glasses and looked extremely annoyed by the sight. We were also asking a million questions about the menu. Me gnawing on some really hard toast, one tomato completely gone and the other trying to hack away at one. He then took a step back put his pad down and said, “Okay. Where are you guys from?” He refilled the water glass for the guy next to us and they spoke to each other in Catalan. He went back into the restaurant where I imagine the following declaration was made:

Disgruntled Waiter: Rafael, I can’t deal with this right now. We have a situation out there with the Pa amb Tomàquet. I’m not going back out until you fix it. These broads are publicly disgracing our culture.

A few minutes another waiter, Rafael, came out to our table and promptly put an end to our embarrassing behavior. He explained that the tomato was not for eating. He then showed us how to prepare Pa amb Tomàquet. His manner was urgent, as if the quicker he was to correct us, the less damage there would be to his Catalan pride. But he was also gentle, respectful and forgiving.

We conversed further with Rafael. He recommended we share our dishes to get a good taste of Catalan cuisine. The meal was perfect. Delicious and just what we were looking for. We talked a little with the guy sitting next to us which found our lack of Catalan knowledge more amusing than annoying. We continued to talk and made apparent that our purpose was to learn about the Catalan culture, to live it while we were here to do our best to have the most authentic Spanish experience possible. Rafael understood. Many tourists often stumble upon this restaurant and ask for burgers or chicken and don't make any effort to learn about the land, the culture, the people, or make any attempt at the language. Rafael is from time to time distressed at the fact that when people think of Spain, they think of bullfighting and Flamenco which almost exlusively Andalucia's. He explained that the equivelent of such thinking was that everyone from Chicago was related to Al Capone. He did, however, see in us an honest and genuine attempt at doing our best to learn.

We finished with most scrumptious desserts, pictured below and some coffee.

Torta de Chocolate (Chocolate cake, whipped cream Queso con miel (Very light cheese, almost like
and raspberry sauce.) ricotta, topped with honey and wafer stick.)

The inside part of the restaurant was really unique:

In the end, we all got along. The disgruntled waiter, Paolo, warmed up to us and took the following pictures. I asked for Rafael's name as we were leaving. "¿Mi nombre? ¡Rafael El Guapo para quien quiere saber!" ("My name? Rafael the Handsome for whoever wants to know!"

Just charming.

Below: Betzy, Rafael el Guapo, Paula, Teresa

The restaurant was part of a plaza:

RECIPE!
Pa Amb Tomàquet ( Bread with Tomato):
Rafael taught us how to do this. This simple nibler has become a Catalan trademark. This is super simple, does not require preparation or cooking (my favorite).

Slice a few slices of a french bread on an angle so that you get more surface area to work with. Toast it on medium. It should be pretty hard but not burnt. Slice the end of a small garlic clove. Do not peel it. Hold the garlic clove and rub the cut end all over the toast. Cut the tomato in half at the belly, NOT from end to end. Gently squeeze the tomato while you rub it on the toast. You should get a good layer of tomato (paste) on the toast from the rub. Pour a generous amount of olive oil on the toast. Add some sea salt to taste. Munch.

It's all natural and makes for a flavorful snack or appetizer. I used a 2 dollar 9 grain loaf and olive oil from Aldi. Super cheap and tasty. The sea salt and garlic cloves you can get at any grocery store. The tomatoes I'm not sure about. I haven't tried looking for the little tomatoes from Spain. I do know they should be very very ripe and juicy so that it rubs easily into the bread. I used Roma tomatoes but I'm going to try looking for the right kind.