3 Months In

It's all in bloom

In truth, I’ve only been an “official” expat for 3 months, since receiving the governmental pat on the head from the Spanish Embassy at the end of January.  I don’t consider my one month in a sunny Mexican limbo as valid. 3 months means I’ve officially passed the length of any vacation of which I have been removed from the arms of the US.

The occasional flashes of fear and angst I experienced in the beginning, have subsided and I’ve all but embraced my immigrant status. My new Spanish life. That sounds like a title of a book.  I am surprised at what I miss and the many things I absolutely don’t miss. Surely these feelings will ebb and flow as time passes. Family looms large as the first thing I should miss the most, but no so much. Bad Wicked Step Mother! They are grown. The boy has a family of his own. Visits to he and his family were at best, bi-annual. The girl was closer in distance, on her own and seen more often, due to proximity. Now, she too is on her own adventures thru the world.

World class Jazz

My biggest miss are friends. Never being one with a large social life, a dance card full, the few individuals which I called closest are missed intensely. That’s hard. Due to the language barrier, I find myself in a place where it will probably take time, before new friends are made. Now, I have adventures to keep me company and of course my spirit animal, The Monkey Man (apologies to Prima for stealing her pet name.) The tenuous thread of FB and Insta keeps me in a social loop.

The silly things I miss, sneaking up on me in unexpected ways.  Consider dill pickles. There are loads of pepinos (cucumbers) in Spain and loads of pickled vegetables on the shelves, yet no one here makes pickles. Just bad imported imitations from Britain are available. They are sweet, for Gods sake - an abomination to my southern sensibilities.

Incredible beaches and sunsets

Real tacos please and any spicy food. There is a large community of Central and South Americans here. Where are the immigrant restaurants? Surrounded by what some consider the best cuisine in the world, I find it the bulk of it bland and uninspired. Don’t tell the neighbors! Is not Donostia an international culinary scene? Is this not the land of taste experimentation? Does everything have to have a sardine on it? Anthony Bourdain lied. Enough with food.
 

Thrift stores. I cannot stomach to buy retail. Second hand stores are a new idea here, brought about due to climate change and the need to recycle. This is also the land of low wages and having new for new’s sake in your home (glasses/towels/sheets etc)., and always matching does not exist except in a tiny social circle of which I am not a part. No one disposes of anything.

World class views

Hello? A real farmers/weekend market, por favor. I know, I know, I just need to find one. It’s not going to be here in the city. I see more train rides in my future and early morning Saturday get aways.

The things I adore? Walking everywhere. Everything I need in a 3-block radius. Medical care! Multiple libraries and cultural centers. Free music and dance on the weekends. Public transport. Cool weather and seasons. Flowers and flowering trees, planted in abundance. A green city. No guns, nice cops. Bike lanes everywhere. A visible social safety net. Families everywhere, all the time. Marches and protests. Drop-dead gorgeous beaches. Locally sourced, fresh Vegi’s, which stay fresh in the fridge for weeks at a time. Yellow Chicken, (the meat not the feathers) because they are feed solely on acorns. Cheap and delicious wine that is appropriate to drink any time of the day. A culture of Siesta and Sundays stores are  closed. A plethora of Holidays, of which I do not have a handle on.

Windy days on top of the world