Laura P. Eshelman
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Paella Party

I got invited to a Paella party last Saturday. I knew only one person and met the rest when we got there around 2:30 in the afternoon. Those whom I met were so nice and welcoming, and luckily I now feel comfortable enough to go to party when I only know one or two people. My Spanish is good enough now that I can converse, understand what’s going on and relax. This has been a huge step for me in developing a second language.

A paella party is the coolest thing ever. A bunch of friends get together in the countryside (el campo) for a party. We hung out at a countryhouse and were surrounded by green, rolling countryside as well as by many different types of chickens (had no idea how many different types there were).

I snacked inside and chatted with the women as the men began cooking the paella – first sautéing tomatoes and peppers to get flavor, then adding broth and rice and later seafood to the mix.

I couldn’t help but think that paella is so much more unique than a barbecue. Paella could be the newest thing to grill in American backyards and parks.

We stayed near the fire, sharing stories and drinking sangria. When the paella was done, we gathered around the table, passed the bread of course and enjoyed the rice and seafood.

The paella party doesn’t end there. Not even close. This is actually an all-day, all night event, a fact I didn’t know until I came.

We cleaned up a bit and then started drinking copas (mixed drinks), hanging out leading into Spanish karaoke. I sang one of the two English songs, which happened to be Britney Spears’ “Baby one more time.” Then there was a song competition, where the boys faced off against the girls. There would be a word and each side would have to come up with a song with that word. While my Spanish is improving, I couldn’t participate other than coming up with random Spanish words for them to sing. (I don’t think I would even be good at that game in English.)

Around midnight we ate grilled hamburgers and pork loin, then just stayed around the table hanging out for the next few hours until I could get the first ride back at 3:30 a.m. tired, full and happy.

My first 13-hour party was a success.

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