A Subarista in Huesca

A Subarista in Huesca

The decision to title this series of blog articles “A Subarista in Huesca” is a deliberate nod to Federico García Lorca’s A Poet in New York, where the Spanish poet navigates the sprawling, industrialized landscapes of a foreign world, uncovering its soul through his observations. In a similar way, this series of blog articles will explore the cultural, environmental, and personal terrain around Subaru ownership in a time of global transformation—but through the lens of a car, rather than a poet’s pen. This journey, set against the backdrop of Huesca, Spain, will chronicle not just the places my Subaru takes me, but also the intertwined history, industry, and environmental impact that a modern Subarista encounters. It is an attempt to uncover the cultural significance of cars in the 21st century, particularly here in Spain, and to understand what driving, traveling, and consuming automobiles means in a world striving toward sustainability.

 

The Automobile as a Cultural Artifact

At first glance, a car is simply a machine, a means to get from one place to another. But when examined through a cultural studies lens, the automobile is an artifact laden with meaning. In the case of Subaru, the brand is not just about selling vehicles; it is a projection of identity. Subaru’s marketing often emphasizes adventure, environmental consciousness, and community. These articles will unpack that identity. Why has Subaru cultivated such a loyal following worldwide? What values are embedded in the brand, and how do they resonate with consumers in different cultures? As a Subarista in Huesca, how does this global brand intersect with my local environment and cultural context?

 

The Local Dealership Experience: Subaru Sells Itself

A critical part of this journey began with finding a dealership we could trust, and, in many ways, as an owner of many previous Subarus, it sold itself before we ever stepped foot on the lot. We shopped around various dealerships in the region, comparing their sales strategies, customer service, and transparency before making our choice. In the end, we chose a dealership that seemed to stand out—but not without reservations. While they were more trustworthy than others, the experience wasn’t perfect.

After our purchase, when Subaru España asked us if we would recommend this dealership to other potential buyers, we gave them a cautious 3 out of 5. The sales team promised reliability and ongoing support, but only time will tell if they follow through. We’ll be revisiting this rating as the months pass, evaluating if their service lives up to the Subaru standard or if some of those initial hesitations prove valid.

I also aim to uncover the realities behind both the ethical and the (maybe) questionable practices within the dealership culture. This investigation will also involve talking to other Subaru buyers to get a sense of their experiences, highlighting the gaps between myth and reality.

 

Globalization, Local Landscapes, and Consumer Identity

Huesca, nestled near the Pyrenees, is a region steeped in tradition but not immune to the forces of globalization. My experience of owning a Subaru in this place will lead to broader reflections on how global industries penetrate local markets. How did this Japanese car company become a player in rural Spain? What does it mean to drive a car assembled from parts sourced all over the world, manufactured in a globalized supply chain, and sold in a small European town?

Globalization is often seen as an abstract economic force, but in A Subarista in Huesca, I’ll explore its everyday manifestations: how roads, cars, and commerce shape the way we experience our local surroundings. I will look at the politics and economics of the auto industry, the environmental costs of global trade, and how those realities shape the cars we drive.

 

Environmental Footprints and the Future of Cars

The climate crisis looms large over any modern discussion of automobiles. Owning a Subaru—known for its eco-friendly practices like zero-landfill manufacturing plants—forces me to confront questions of sustainability. Each journey I take, from daily commutes to weekend escapes, leaves a carbon footprint. In future posts, I will explore the role of the individual in combating climate change through responsible car ownership. How can I reduce my emissions? What is the impact of Subaru’s sustainability initiatives, and how do they align with the broader challenges of the auto industry’s shift toward electrification?

 

The Open Road as Cultural Space

Lastly, this blog will reflect on the symbolic and cultural meaning of the road itself. The road is more than a physical path; it is a cultural space that facilitates freedom, mobility, and adventure. Whether it’s driving through the rugged beauty of the Pyrenees or exploring the historical villages of Alto Aragón, my Subaru enables me to access spaces and experiences that otherwise might remain unreachable. These journeys will be chronicled as part of a larger cultural conversation about movement, place, and belonging.

 

Through these explorations, A Subarista in Huesca will move between the personal and the global, the material and the symbolic. It will investigate how a car—a seemingly mundane object—can open up conversations about culture, economy, and the environment. Just as Lorca’s New York was both a place and a metaphor, my Subaru is both a vehicle and an invitation to explore the deeper terrains of modern life.

Master Beekeeper

I just completed the 18-month Master Beekeeper program at Cornell University. 4 courses (Honey Bee Evolution, Biology, and Behavior; The Science and Art of Beekeeping; Managing Pests and Diseases; The Rewards and Contributions of Beekeeping) and a 3-part exam series that included a tough written exam, field exam in the apiary and a research presentation.
My presentation was titled, “(Re)consider the Killer Bee: (Api)cultural Geographies of the Africanized Honey Bee.”

Trans-Switzerland Walks No. 1 & No. 2

Trans-Switzerland Walks No. 1 & No. 2
August 2022 – June 2023
Swiss border in red.
No.1 – East to west walk along the Via Jacobi/Jakobsweg/Chemin de Saint Jacques which eventually is called the Camino de Santiago and arrives in Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, Spain.

No. 2 – North to south walk along the Via Gottardo, a historical route that follows a 13th century mule track over the Gotthard Pass in the Swiss Alps, thus connecting Germany and Italy.