In Praise of the Spanish Siesta
(Page 2 of 3)
January-February 1999
by Joe Robinson, from Escape
Unlike the average lunch break, the siesta is a true break in the action because there is no choice but to come to a full and complete stop. You can't do errands; the shops are closed. You can't make business calls; nobody's at the office. Most people go home for lunch, or get together with family or friends for a glass of vino, and nod out afterwards.
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The Spanish need their sleep. They've got a long night ahead of them, because another key component of the siesta lifestyle is its nocturnal orbit. After the afternoon work shift, from 4:30 to 8 p.m. or so, they may join friends for a drink. Dinner starts at 9 or 10 p.m., and from there it's out on the town until one or two in the morning.
"It's a bad night in Madrid if you get home before six in the morning," laughs Roberts. In the big cities the night-owl habit produces traffic jams at a time when the only thing stirring in America is psychic hot lines.The siesta's origins lie in climate and architecture. Like people in other places around the globe that are blast furnaces much of the year, Spaniards turned to shade and stillness to avoid incineration in the middle of the day. At night, packed, simmering dwellings drove people into the streets to cool down. Add to that the old-world tradition of the neighborhood constitutional, and you've got some sidewalk jams.
While climate is still a factor, the siesta lifestyle today is driven primarily by the social imperative of Spanish life, which places an equal if not greater emphasis on life outside the office. "We are not so obsessed only with work," says Florentino Sotomayor of the Spanish Tourist Board in Los Angeles. "We take a break and have the opportunity of having coffee or a beer with friends and thinking and talking about different issues, not only the work, you know?"
I wish I did know. Like a lot of us in the land of time scarcity, I find it harder and harder to shut it off, to switch off work mode and be social—that is, be unproductive, and just be. The divide is blurred by a volatile economy of all-consuming competition that has turned off-hours into off-site catch-up. Blink and it's Monday again. The culprit, says David Scott, an associate professor of recreation, park, and tourism sciences at Texas A&M, is the accelerating cult of efficiency.