Opposites attract

My boyfriend is a complete carnivore that believes french fries fall in the vegetable category. So it was no surprise that he wasn't thrilled when I told him I wanted to go almost vegetarian over a year ago.

When I made that decision, I decided three things:
1. If I'm doing a lot of exercise, am sick, etc. and I need more iron, I'm going to eat meat.
2. I'm not going to push people to adopt my diet beliefs. Mutual respect is a must.
3. I'll save my meat meals for when it would be highly inconvenient to insist on vegetarian meals (like at someone's house or a steakhouse).

Since we both work a lot, dinner time is really important to us. But it hasn't been easy. I still ask him what he wants to eat naively expecting him to answer something other than "meat". And each time I've taken it as an attack on my wishes and unfairly gone off on him.

This last week we've finally found a meeting ground for our differences and it feels like we're making progress. We let each other know when we're hungry and we each make our own meals. When we go out for tapas we get at least one non-meat item (if that's even possible). Amazingly enough my in-laws are starting to back off and are accepting my quirky ways (they had Spinach leaves in their salad for the first time last week!).

Thinking we're going to make this "opposites attract" thing work.

No Easter bunnies here...

Holy Week celebrations in Spain have always seemed to me to be somewhat more appropriate for Halloween. I always get this eery sensation that the dead (not Jesus) are going to raise from the dead and walk the streets at night - a far cry from Easter celebrations back home full of lillies, eggs and bunnies.

Funeral processions weave through the streets every spring and although I've seen it so many times, it's just not easy to get used to. A death march is played on the drums; smokey incense fills the air; people walking in lines, sometimes barefoot, wearing chains on their feet, holding candles or large crosses or whips, and usually with their heads covered with a centries-old costume that was later copied by the KKK; carrying on their shoulders heavy statues of Holy Week protagonists dressed with real hair and clothes.

And come Easter Sunday everyone usually forgets the ending of this celebration and file back onto the freeway to return to Madrid without having gone to mass. No joyous end (actually if you get stuck in traffic you're probably cussing out God rather than praising his name). No happy children or trumpets or bunnies. Everyone is basically pooped.