Gracias

Missing Thanksgiving this year. Last year my mom’s side of the family was all together in Mexico. Two years ago I wasn’t working and got to host a big Thanksgiving dinner with the Spanish side of my family. This year… I’m working. My closest work friends are all in a training course for the day. I had TV-dinner lentils for lunch. It’s sad. But that’s what I have to deal with for being across the pond.

All in all it would really be shortsighted of me to complain. I have lots of things to be thankful for, including:

• Both hubby and I have good, solid jobs (no small feat these days). Knock wood.
• My sister and brother-in-law live “close” and we got to see them a couple weeks ago and will again over the Christmas holidays.
• The internet. It’s true. Being an immigrant must have been infinitely more difficult even just 15 years ago.
• In true Spanish fashion I have a 4-day weekend next weekend. It’s my Thanksgiving make-up stint and may even involve a turkey…
• Thanksgiving is a Thursday so at least the weekend is always just around the corner.

Above all, this particular Thanksgiving, I am especially thankful that we have two very good friends visiting this week. So thank goodness for air travel and adventurous spirits. And thank goodness for Thanksgiving because without it and its 2 days off work we might not have gotten to enjoy their company. Even if we don’t get turkey tonight, we’ll still have tapas, drinks, laughs, and good times. And that’s enough for me.

The State of Science

“More than half of the Canarians and almost half of the Austurians

think the Sun revolves around the Earth.”

This popped up in my inbox first thing this AM. At first I thought it was from a Spanish equivalent of The Onion, but looking around a bit more on the internet, turns out that it’s true.

The meat of the article comes from a study published by the Spanish Federation for Science and Technology in which they performed a survey of the population’s basic scientific knowledge. The questions were presented in true-false format and the results are shown below. (The original information is all Spanish, so I took the liberty of translating it to English…)

The study goes on to show that the results are “worse” among the older and immigrant populations. And why?

The issue of immigration seems an easy one to decipher. Many immigrants, particularly those arriving from Africa (many of whom arrive in the Canary Islands), come from countries with far lower standards for education and greatly increased indices of illiteracy (like the 60% illiteracy in Senegal, almost 50% in Morroco and 30% in Algeria). It should be no surprise, then, that there levels of science education are far below Western standards.

The age issue is an interesting one. There is a significant population in Spain whose education was cut short at an early age due to the economic difficulties in the post-war era and the need to make money. It’s not uncommon to find people my father-in-law’s age (65+) who left school at 13 to begin working. For that reason, is it really surprising that the percentage of right answers from people over 65 drops nearly 20 points? What is even more interesting is that the number of people who said, “Don’t know,” skyrockets. Among younger generations it might be harder to find people who will admit that they don’t know the answer to such a simple question. The older people, however, have a darn good excuse for not knowing and many of them simply aren’t ashamed of the fact. That was the way life was.

These two populations are unique to Spain (immigration of course occurs elsewhere in the world, but among the major European countries, only Germany has a higher total immigrant population). And their existence perhaps gives some indication of how Spain might compare with the rest of Europe.

Turns out someone’s already done the comparison. The European Commission requested a special Eurobarometer on Science and Technology to compare the results of the same survey in different countries.

As you can see, Spain (ES) brings up the rear, “beating out” only Greece, Lithuania, Portugal, Latvia, Romania, Cyprus, Bulgaria and Turkey (that’s a rank of 24/32). Oh, yeah, and remember that immigrant population in Spain? Two of the other biggies in the influx to Spain are Romania and Bulgaria.

But in the end, what does it matter? Is it really important if people don’t know how the solar system works or that people didn’t ever hunt dinosaurs? There are two specific reasons why it makes a difference – one affecting Spain and the other relevant worldwide.

Spain and the Spanish people suffer from a minor inferiority complex. Perhaps it’s a justified one as they seem to be the red-headed stepchild on so many occasions – getting left out of the G20, losing miserably in Eurovision, etc. So many people consider then the “last” of the five big European powers – after France, Germany, England, and Italy. They’re more backwoodsy and outdated. A poor showing on the education front does nothing to stop those stereotypes. If Spain could pull itself up 5-10 points they’d be up there with the big dogs and finally get some good international press…

The other issue that comes to mind from all of this data is applicable worldwide. Over the past few years issues of a scientific nature have become far more prevalent in the political circle. In the States evolution is a big one. Both there and here in Europe the issues of stem-cell research and genetically-engineered food are growing in importance. So on a regular basis normal citizens are asked for their opinions on major scientific advances and their legality. How are people expected to make an informed, intelligent decision about such issues when their understanding of some basic scientific facts is virtually nonexistent? Clearly dinosaurs and the solar system are not likely to show up on the ballots, but the fact of the matter is that a lack of understanding of such basic knowledge is almost certainly indicative of a far larger problem. And there’s no denying the voters make uninformed decisions all of the time. But, it’s probably safe to say that the majority of the time someone who doesn’t understand an issue is likely to vote it down. Better safe than sorry, right? If schools (and society) could bring that basic level up to a reasonable standard, giving people a greater understanding of science in general, perhaps the population would even begin to show an interest in learning more about those hot-button issues before voting.

En fin. On the surface it’s more of the same – people are more ignorant than we would like to believe. But when you delve a bit more into the problem it’s an eye-opening study on the gap that exists in Spain and many other European countries (and probably in the States – I’d love to see the results of a similar study there) in terms of science understanding. And with the current state of the world, science simply cannot be left behind.

Heading North

Yesterday was a holiday (La Almudena – patron saint #2 of Madrid) so Nacho and I headed up to Edinburgh to visit my sister and brother-in-law. When we were heading to the airport last night nacho commented that to him the UK is like a midway point between Spain and the States. He meant figuratively (not physically, although it is…) in terms of personality and living style. Now, our family that lives there has found more than a few causes for culture shock; even so, in many ways it’s true – life in the UK settles in nicely between life in the States and la vida de España…

1. People eat in public. Eating on the go is a “far-west” phenomenon as best I can tell. Eating a cereal bar, piece of fruit or premade sandwich while on the metro or bus in Madrid will garner you more than a couple of stares. It’s simply not done. Food is meant to be enjoyed. And, to the Spanish at least, you can’t do that while on the go…
2. Many stores are open on Sundays. They might have more limited hours, but they are open.
3. They have bagels.
4. Lots and lots of restaurants deliver. Most of them also have websites. (On a side note there is one delivery service in Madrid that is quickly gaining ground. It’s a very “far-west” concept – order online from dozens of different restaurants and the middleman handles the delivery…)
5. People generally go about life in a bit more business-like way. They hustle along on the sidewalks and in stores. Efficient. Spain is a strollers’ paradise.
6. There are many more elderly people out and about in Madrid than I’ve ever seen in the UK – either in Edinburgh or in London – or in the States (barring Florida). Perhaps this is because Spanish social life revolves around being out and about with friends and so it’s something that people are accustomed to when young and just keep on doing it as they age…

Some of these things are positives and others are negatives. It’s not a matter of choosing a favorite, but rather of simply observing. The truth of the matter is that arriving in the UK makes me feel “at home” to a certain degree. It could all be due to the language. But, then again… the bagels probably have something to do with it too…

Stamp Collector

After work tonight I am heading to the post office to send in my application for a new passport. Mine expires in barely more than a month and I have clearly left this task until the last possible moment. I am actually quite sad about it. I have become incredibly attached to this stupid little blue book. It has been my constant companion over the past 8 years and rarely have more than a couple of months passed without my needing to pull it out of the drawer. But, its time has come. Not only is it on the verge of expiring, but it is also completely full. I counted this morning. 58 stamps and a big-ass visa sticker cover the 7 available pages.

Years ago (8 years ago, actually, when I was in the UK after graduating college and right before moving to Spain) I made a “Life’s To-Do List.” #46 was “Fill a passport with stamps.” Check.

Bull Sighting

Occasionally, as I go about my daily life, I am suddenly struck by the thought of all the twists and turns my life has taken to get me to that moment in time, that specific spot, this life. Yesterday morning was one such moment.

There I was, heading north through Castilla y Leon en route to a construction site awaiting my watchful presence, when over the horizon rose a giant set of black horns. Then came the head and the hulking body of an enormous black bull. Anyone who has spent much time on the Spanish highways will not be surprised by such an occurrence, but this was my first bull. Not the first I’d seen, but the first I, myself, had driven towards. And for some reason it spoke to me like no other such bull had.

In the few seconds it took for the bull to fully appear on the hillside, the events in the past few years that conspired to bring me to that place – to Spain, to Madrid, to the A-1 freeway north of Madrid, to a solo business trip to a construction site hidden away in the folds of southern Pais Vasco – flashed through my mind. And it overwhelmed me.

The wonderful part is that it thrilled me. I was not struck by a bout of homesickness, nor was I not flooded with nostalgia for Alligator Alley. I was instead exhilarated by the sight of something so Spanish and the thought of how perfectly it fits into the life that I can call mine.

Lists in progress

Ways in which I will probably never be Spanish (although there is always the possibility… check back in 20 years):

1. I go through butter-substitute faster than olive oil.
2. I cannot drink alcohol at lunch and go back to work.
3. I wear sneakers to work and then change into heels. I cannot suffer for beauty.
4. If I cook a protein and a vegetable, they go on the same plate. Not on two different ones to be eaten as a 1st and 2nd course.
5. I tip.
6. I do not understand the obsession with non-soccer-playing Spanish athletes on the international stage.
7. I don’t care about Paquirrín.
8. I don’t wrap my luggage in industrial-strength plastic wrap.

Ways in which I am already Spanish:

1. I push. On the sidewalk, in the metro, on the stairs. (Apparently I am also 80.)
2. I have 5 kinds of dried beans in my kitchen.
3. I eat fruit for dessert.
4. My 2nd favorite dish in the entire world is fabada.
5. I say hello and goodbye to perfect strangers - in stores, on the elevator, in the doctor’s office waiting room.

Random thoughts

Last night in that haze right before I fell asleep, a memory from my childhood popped into my head. I cannot recall why it popped in there (I am mildly obsessed with following trains of thought back to the beginning when someone says, “How did we start talking about THAT??”) but there it was none-the-less. At first it made me happy. It was a good memory. But then it made me kinda sad in that way that so many of a Child of the 80s’ memories make her sad as we approach 2010: “Do kids still do that nowadays? It’s probably all online or something…” What on earth am I talking about?

Let’s see if you can figure it out… This is the picture in my head: rows of bookshelves topped with yellowish cardboard pages standing upright in little stands. On the cardboard pages are rows of children’s names, to the right of which are little circular stickers. Some kids have 2. Some have 20.

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If you haven’t already figured it out (which is entirely likely since I am not even sure if this was a national thing and if it was it probably wasn’t done the exact same way in every town) I’ll tell you. I’m talking about the summer reading club at the local library. You know, the reading clubs where you’d try and meet the summer-long goal of reading 100 books and along the way you’d earn prizes at each milestone. With two English teachers for parents, reading has always been a big thing in our family. And that summer reading club at the Daniel Boone branch of the St. Louis Public Library System was an institution in our house. As much a part of our summer vacations as playing ghosts in the graveyards and catching fireflies.

I can remember the details of the club like I finished my 100th book yesterday. Each year my sister and I would sign up at the start of summer vacation. As we read our books we would fill out the pertinent info on little cards with space for 5 books. The filled cards were then turned it in at the library in exchange for a little circular sicker which we’d then get to stick next to our names on the list. Like I said, there were prizes too, erasers and pencils, posters and maybe a backpack for the 100th book, but I think the best part was watching the row of stickers grow. The best times were when we’d get back from a trip away with multiple cards to turn in and the 2 or 3 new stickers would push us past our neighbors.

That’s the part that makes me sad. I wonder if the club is still run like that – in such a non-technologically advanced way. Un-alphabetized lists of names, hand written in black felt marker with little stickers marking the steps towards the finish. I imagine it somehow now being all online. Kids can sign up and record their books on the internet. Download their prizes of a gift certificate to borders or amazon.com. If that’s the case then I will at least praise the library for changing with the times and continuing to encourage reading among children. I hope, however, that things are still run with at least some semblance of the “olden days.” I chose to be optimistic that this is the case. After all, for the time being at least, the library, by default, is a place which must be visited to be enjoyed. So if the kids have to visit to pick up their new books, perhaps they can also still affix their stickers to the list of names.

(I realize this post has little to do with the purpose of this blog, but it’s MY blog, so I can write what I want, right? But for any purists out there I will ask the question, Does anything like this exist in Spain?)

I also realize the underlying nerdiness of this post. But I happen to love books and book clubs and all that. And I love libraries. And I loved the bookmobile days in elementary school. And I was mad at the Simpson’s episode where Bart blew one up!!

Decency

Taking a cab as a blond-haired, blue-eyed joven speaking with an accent-laced Spanish is not always a walk in the park. Taxistas have tried to overcharge me. They’ve tried to drop me off at a destination other than what I’ve asked for. They’ve started to drive away with my suitcase. They’ve insulted my nationality. They’ve hit on me; one even claimed that taxi drivers in Spain are like doctors and lawyers elsewhere – every girl’s dream guy. But what happened today was a first for me.

I was in a cab on my way back from an appointment this afternoon when my taxista missed his turn. I wasn’t even paying much attention. He immediately apologized, saying, “I should have turned there. I’ll turn off the meter until I get us back on track.” Huh? What? I was left speechless. I didn’t even have to complain. It came from the goodness and the decency in him. Or perhaps from the fear of getting yelled at – Spanish women tend to have a bit of a temper (and I mean that as a compliment). Regardless, he took the next exit, got us back on track and told me when he turned the meter back on.

Is it worth noting that my taxista was not Spanish? I’m not sure if that had an impact on the whole exchange or not. My accent is noticeable, for sure, but could it have gone unnoticed on the ears of another foreigner? Or was he just a decent guy? Or both?

Thanks to ADN for the foto.

Late to bed, Early to rise

I’m at work early this morning. This project (El Proyectazo) has been doing it’s best to matarme but I am refusing to let it do so. T-1 day to vacation is today’s mantra. (Yesterday’s was T-2 to vacation, so you can see that El Proyectazo has at least succeeded in knocking out my creativity.) They say that something good comes from everything. Or that every cloud has a silver lining. Or something like that. I generally tend to buy into that theory but my faith was starting to wane in the face of work these days. This morning my faith has been restored.

There are few things more beautiful and wonderful than Madrid in the early morning (workday) hours. The streets are empty. The bus is empty. The dumpsters are even empty. The streets around my house smell of soap as the doormen scrub their entrances. Over near my office the streets smell more of coffee as the early risers (or late to-bedders from the night shifts) drink at the cafeterias. I awoke annoyed at having to get up early, rearrange my schedule to launch today’s final assault on El Proyectazo. But tranquil Madrid settled my nerves this morning.



(On a general blogging note, you’ll surely notice that I have been seriously MIA over the past few (6??) months. I intend for that to change. When I had more time on my hands (read: when I was unemployed) I would think seriously about each post, write it, proof it, edit it, reread it… you get the drift. That process made the blogging into a major time commitment. Time that I don’t have anymore. And although the blogging stopped, my reflecting on Spain has not. And that’s a shame. So I’ve decided to abandon the “planned-out” type of blogging and go for a more succinct, flow-of-thought style. We’ll see if it holds out. Bear with me. Keep in mind it’s also T-1 to vacation so I’ll be MIA again for a bit. Off to Ireland.)

Everything but the TV

I’m back. I think. It’s been a long time since I last wrote, but I am going to try to get back into it. The start of 2008 proved chaotic (broken laptop, new job, sick hubby) and left little time for blogging. But I haven’t yet lost the blogger’s eyes completely; and I am still constantly confronted with those “only in Spain” moments. However, I am also constantly reminding myself that not everything new that I encounter is related to being in Spain. After all, having not yet arrived at my fourth decade of life, I am fully aware that my overall life experience is still limited enough that there are plenty of things (common perhaps even in the US) that I simply haven’t been exposed to yet. If I comment on something of that nature, be sure to let me know. Like this most recent encounter…

This past week gave me an inside look at one of Madrid’s private hospitals. With a sick father-in-law, (luckily not life threatening) I spent an abnormally larger portion of my time checking out the private installations. I found it strange that even after days in the hospital my suegros (in-laws) never had the TV on. When I asked why I discovered that the TV usage is not included for free. Instead you have to purchase an access card from the nurses, thereby giving you limited viewing time. Apparently years ago, and surely in some older hospitals, the TVs were actually coin operated. Perhaps I could understand it in the public hospitals where the care is “free” and any xtras might be used to gain some revenues. But in a private hospital? Where you (or your insurance) is paying for the room, the food, the care, everything? Apparently it’s everything, but the TV.

Top Ten

It's been a long time since I last wrote; I've been busy but want to get back to the blogging. So here's goes.

One of the first things an expat does (in modern times) is to search for expat websites and forums. Before I moved to Madrid I found such a site in NotesFromSpain.com. Run by an Englishman and his madrileña wife, the page offers everything from advice on moving and restaurant reviews to Spanish lessons and podcasts. Recently they've posted some Top 10 lists. The first was the Top 10 Rants about Spain; to be fair they followed with the same list about England. And they've wrapped it up with the Top 10 Best things about Spain. All of this got me to thinking. What would be my list of the Top 10 Best things about the States? I've put this list together in just a few hours, but what comes to mind first is probably an accurate representation of my feelings. I'm going to work on a similar list for Spain. In the meantime, let me know if you agree about the States...

1. Massive, well-stocked supermarkets. There isn't a single store in Spain that can hold a candle to a top-notch American grocery store in terms of variety, quality, and service.
2. The customer is always right. Well, almost always, but even that is a major bonus.
3. Great Smokey Mountains National Park
4. Well-funded suburban high schools. Gorgeous, university-like campuses, swimming pools, tennis courts, running trails. You get the picture.
5. ESPN
6. Entire neighborhoods filled with holiday light displays worthy of the cover of Good Housekeeping.
7. The loss-of-innocence, freedom-finding, move-away-from-home college experience. (And I'll throw live college sports in there for good measure.)
8. Happy Hour
9. The efficient, inexpensive, and friendly postal service.
10. People who wear the American flag. When you're there it screams tackiness but once you've lived abroad you realize that such a display of patriotism isn't to be found everywhere.

What do you think?

Baby Steps

Sometimes when we’re out somewhere people watching Nacho will say, “That girl looks American.” I always wonder how he can say that when, to me at least, everyone we pass on the street could be American. Spain still has a long way to go before it reaches such diversity, but it’s definitely on its way. I was intrigued by the diversity shown in this ad posted in the Metro the other day. I think it’s safe to say that 10 or even 5 years ago the little kids would all have looked a bit more similar. It is interesting, though, that there are no dark-skinned children in the ad. But like we learned from What About Bob – it’s all about baby steps.

Enough Already!

Today I realized that as well I think I may have assimilated into the Spanish society, I will never be Spanish.

Spain is all abuzz today because of yesterday’s final leg of the Formula 1 racing season. Going into the race there was a chance that national hero, Fernando Alonso, could win it all. And there was a bigger chance that his hated teammate, Englishman Lewis Hamilton, would win. The rivalry between the McLaren teammates has been a constant fixture on Spanish TV since about mid-season when everyone decided the British team was clearly favoring the young Brit. But with this weekend’s final race and with the points so close, hatred for the Englishman was nearing boiling point. Someone even set up a website allowing Alonso’s fans, and by definition, Hamilton’s enemies, to scatter the race track with all manner of shrapnel to flatten the rival’s tire. There were “I hate Hamilton” posters hung in windows and people were just as excited at the prospect of Hamilton losing as they were at Alonso’s winning.

And what happened come race time? The Spanish sportsmanship dropped another few notches. When, shortly after the start of the race Hamilton veered off the course and dropped several positions, the radio commentator’s response was, “Toma, Hamilton!!” “Take that, Hamilton!” And when later in the race the Brit dropped to last place, after reporting a problem with his gears, the TV reporters could barely contain their joy. With his technical problems Hamilton ended up 7th in the race making that a victory for Spain in the Spanish press’ mind. He also ended up second in the season points, behind the long shot, inoffensive Finnish Kimi Räikkönen - leaving poor Alonso in third place. Even this final podium standing was a "victory" because, although he did beat Alonso, Hamilton didn’t actually win anything.

More TV time has been spent celebrating that “loss” than honoring Alonso’s third place finish. And if I thought the commentary during the race was woeful, the media has surpassed even itself with today’s reports. One of the evening humor shows had the entire audience chanting, “Hamilton lost! Hamilton lost!” On another they blamed today’s immense traffic jams in Barcelona on whom? None other than Formula 1’s reining silver-medalist.

Now, I’m all for a cleverly-written joke or a healthy rivalry (Duke-UNC, for example) but I could not be happier that that Formula 1 season is finally over. Perhaps my lack of Spanish blood prevents me from truly commiserating with the entire nation on the unjust travesty that has been Alonso’s season. Maybe, as one classmate suggested, I simply don’t understand Formula 1 since we Americans only watch NASCAR. I personally think that I’m simply an unbiased observer in an overly biased environment. The complete and utter media overload that has been the Formula 1 season served only to transform this ambivalent observer into one who groans whenever someone says Fernando Alonso.

Thoughts Upon My Return

Flying into Madrid yesterday I was reassured to find myself happy about the return. I've always been a firm believer in the idea that when faced with a tough decision you should just make a choice and then see how that choice makes you feel. I was pretty sure that coming to Spain was the right choice for us, but the fact that I was comforted by the sight of the Spanish plains was definitely a bonus. (On a side note, I was actually struck by how the fields in the rural outskirts of Madrid reminded me of the patchwork colors of the Midwestern plains in the States. Perhaps that's partly why I was comforted by the sight?)

Just in case I was somehow uncertain if I had actually arrived in Madrid or in the States, I was quickly greeted by a whiff of cigarette smoke. I know that the government is making strides towards curbing the Spanish smoking epidemic, and I definitely think progress is being made, but it's hard to change something so deeply ingrained in the culture. In my two weeks Stateside I don't think I smelled smoke even once (granted my smoking friends were out of town and my social time was mostly spent at house-parties, not bars...), but once back in Spain I was confronted with it before I even reached the passport control.

Once I reached home I was happy to see that my public health card had finally arrived. I would certainly have received any needed health care as I was officially in the "system," but possession of the actual card is reassuring. They'd said it would take about a month to get the card but mine arrived more than 3 months later. Perhaps it was delayed by the summer-time lag. I'm hoping my work permit and residency are not similarly delayed.

While in St. Louis I loaded up on American toiletries and drugs. I'm trying to break myself of the connection to those items that I am most familiar with, but I'm not there just yet, so I took advantage of the trip to stock up. My thinking in wanting to make that break is partly because of the price (5€ for Dove deodorant and 11€ for a 4-pack of razors?!?!?) but mostly because I think it's unhealthy to be constantly thinking of what I left behind. That being said, I've been working on a list of those items that I enjoy/miss most from both the St. Louis and Madrid. (I've chosen those instead of the States and Spain simply because I'm most familiar with them. But some of these things are available country-wide.) It's a work in progress. Can you help me add to it?

MADRID

• Cloudless skies (a rarity in St. Louie)
• Claras
• Eggs with the expiration date stamped on the shell (strange, I know)
• Cheap taxis
• The "Chinese" stores (like the dollar-stores in the States but sooo much better!)
• Metro
• Gazpacho

ST. LOUIS

• TJ Maxx & Marshalls
• St. Louis Bread Co. (known as Panera elsewhere in the States)
• Toasted Ravioli
• Day-quil & Ny-quil
• Expanded and HD cable TV
• Baseball
• House parties (really in South Florida since that's where my friends do it best!)

Feeling Sick

It's an illness from which all of us expats suffer. Most of the time it's in remission, but occasionally, and at the most random moments, it rears its ugly head. Today it hit me as I walked past a bridal store. Strange, I know, but not without logic. Two of my best friends have gotten engaged within the past couple of weeks and the bridal gowns made me think of them. Now, I'm not an overly girly-girl. Even during my own engagement my purchase of bridal magazines was kept to a minimum. But now that I am here I miss going dress shopping with them. Its moments like those that remind me of the distance between Madrid and Miami or Chicago - that remind me of how far I am from what was so recently home. Many things I don't even miss until some stupid little thing, like a bridal shop, makes me stop and think. It's good to be reminded, occasionally, of what we've left behind. After all, this was my decision and I knew that homesickness came with the whole kit-n-caboodle. The important thing is knowing where the temporary antidote lies - be it shopping the rebajas, having a clara on a terraza, or simply strolling through the park.

Learning to walk again

I think I've lost some of my courage. When I lived in Madrid 4 years ago I had to do everything for myself - bank accounts, utility bills, fruit purchases. Everything. This time around I have Nacho by my side and I have come to realize that perhaps I am depending upon him for too much. I'm certainly glad to have him here to take the lead on more cumbersome things (like dealing with immigration - which I'll blog about in some weeks when I hopefully have some good news), but I depend on him for many small things too. And I need to get away from that. I did this before and I can do it again.

So perhaps I haven't lost my courage, but it's hidden away in one of the boxes that I haven't yet opened. I just need some time to unpack it.

Bittersweet

I’m leaving for Spain tomorrow. I’m excited and nervous at the same time. One minute I am really excited about the future ahead, the next I am nervous for the very same reason. Tonight I said good-bye to my family. They’ll all be at work when I leave tomorrow. It was a tough good-bye even though I haven’t lived near them in almost 10 years. I wasn’t even living within driving distance really. But I don’t think that this time the depth of emotion was really all about the distance. It was about the sense of finality, of permanency.

Whenever I’ve left “home” previously, I always thought that it would be for a finite period of time. That somehow made the move easier. I’ve always believed that no action is still action and that the lack of a decision is still a decision in itself. But I guess it’s simply easier to stay put – even in a foreign environment– than it is to move on. When I first moved to Madrid almost 6 years ago I thought I would be staying just for the summer. I ended up staying for 2 years. Nacho first came to the US on a student visa for 9 months. He stayed almost 2 1/2 years! But we never expected it to be that way. So we said our good-byes to friends and family, thinking that it wouldn’t be that long until we saw them again. Not even just until we saw them again but until we were back in the bosom of the people and land that knew us best. On we went on our merry way – eager for the excitement of something new, confident that home would be there when we were ready to return.

Nacho and I are in agreement that these first couple years in Madrid will be a trial for us. A trial to see if the happiness we seek is found in Spain or if we need to keep searching. When people ask me if I am moving for good, I say, “I hope so because that means we’ve found happiness.” Despite that truth, the move does make me a touch sad. Not because I don’t want to go. But because I don’t know when I’ll be back. Sure, I’ll be back for vacations, weddings, Christmas. But I don’t know if I’ll be back to live. Leaving home is never easy. It’s particularly hard when it’s permanent…

P.S. The pic is me and Nacho on the day we closed on the sale of our condo. Another day that was bittersweet.