 |
| 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
|
