OK OK OK already! I am sending more stories! I am actually pleasantly surprised that so many of you find my stories and experiences so fascinating. I have to admit, aside from missing my friends and family, I don´t regret my move to Spain one bit. I feel like this change in life has really developed and challenged me. As Anabella put it, “you have explored your professional side…now you are exploring your feminine side” (referring to the cooking & cleaning, & husband dependancy). Even Ángel chuckles when he sees me in the kitchen and almost always comments “I wish I had a video camera, your friends in the states would not recognize you behind that apron with the wooden spoon in your hand”.
Adventures in Moving
After a quick jaunt home for a visit to the Spanish Consulate in NYC at the end of October (another step in a long line of bureaucracy for my resident´s card), a visit with family & friends, a massage (thanks Pretty Patti!!), a haircut & manicure, a visit to WYBE, and of course the mandatory salsa dancing at Brasils(Thanks for the party Chris T!), I returned to our home in Gandía to spend a week packing for our move. Of course the best laid plans are always foiled as I was called to Madrid for an interview midweek (Wednesday) which shot three days of packing (I was hired and started the following Monday). On Friday, friends Xema and Silvia came down from Valencia to wish us well (and help DH load the washer and fridge onto the truck). Their anticipated two hour visit turned into nine hours as DH met his match in Xema...the only other man I know who can talk as much as him. Needless to say, most of the packing got done Saturday morning and at precisely midnight, hubby and I pulled out of Gandía with all our worldly posessions in a Spanish style U-Haul It. 10 hours later, after 4 cans of Red Bull, countless expressos, and a couple of hours of shut-eye at a roadside gas station, we pulled into El Espinar, our new hometown.
Urban Chic(a) meets El Espinar
El Espinar is a charming town in the province of Segovia, about 35 miles northwest of Madrid. Yes, it´s cold here, we are nestled in the foothills of the mountains in a valley. Our house has beautiful breathtaking views of the mountain ranges and pine forests. If Gandía was small, El Espinar is tiny with about 2,500 residents. We can´t get away from the breadmaker...our landlord was the town´s breadmaker...now retired. One next door neighbor is the town´s retired wood chopper, and the other neighbor, formerly the town butcher, is building a mansion of a house next to ours. Fortunately, they aren´t gossipy like our Gandía neighbors. (The Segovian personality to the Valencian personality is like comparing the US east coast and west coast peronalities). Our house is on a cañada, a street which is a designated cattle route used by the heardsmen when they move the cattle from one pasture to the next. Not sure when this spectacle will take place, it promises to be mighty interesting. I was excited to hang my first load of wash out to dry (doesn´t that sound frightening)...couldn´t wait for the aroma of fresh moutain air in the clothes. Was I in for a rude surprise when I pulled the sheets off the line, plunged my nose into them and got a nice whiff of...COW MANURE. I forgot about the pastures that were just around the bend from our house at the town´s back entrance. According to the townsfolk, the cow dung is excellent kindling for the fire. Hmm...no thanks, in my sheets is bad enough, I don´t need it in the house too!
Spreading my wings
I have thrown in the towel (temporarily) and accepted a part time position teaching English with O.E. Academy. Native speakers of English are in high demand as teachers. Certainly doesn´t hurt me to have a training background. It´s great to get out of the house and meet people. I clock about 20 – 25 hours a week and my students range in age from 8 – 50+ years. It really is giving my gradeschool grammar a run for its money...and I have learned a lot about the differences between American English and British English. I cover the northern suburbs of Madrid (can you say suburban sprawl and soccer moms?). Of course the families that I teach are all rather well to do and their homes show it!! I am mentally taking notes of how I want our future house to be!! I will also be getting a car in a couple of weeks...which means that I will have to break down and learn to drive stickshift before taking my driver´s exam here. Be prepared for great stories of me being overtaken by cows!
Holiday Wishes
Unfortunately, we won´t be home (to the US) for the holidays this year. After three trips to the US in a period of 6 months...prior to me working, our economy has told us to slow down a bit...be prepared for our visit late winter early spring! In the meantime, warmest holiday greetings to everyone! With much love from me & hubby.
Showing posts with label expat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label expat. Show all posts
Saturday, December 08, 2001
Friday, May 11, 2001
Settling In: Lessons Learned
I know I entertained many of you with my story about the discovery of this modern invention called clothespins. Boy are mine getting a workout. I might have to upgrade my model soon. Maybe there is a beta version coming out soon of the upgrade. I wonder if I can download it from a website somewhere!
I found that I have to do a few things in a certain order to be an effective housewive. First, I must change out of my flimsy bathrobe into regular clothes before hanging the clothes out to dry. Living on the 6th floor, with our clotheslines on the balcony facing the main street...you can see everything from down below. All it would take would be a good gust of wind and well...you get the gist. Funny thing is I figured this out when I was coming back from my morning run yesterday and happened to look up to our balcony. I was horrified when I thought about all the times that I went out on the balcony just in my long nightshirt!! Note to self: Always put clothes on before going outside.
I also have to remember to mop the balcony before hanging out the clothes. City dirt (well in my case small town dirt) has a knack for finding nice white tile and sticking to it. When the wind comes along and blows over the clothes drying rack..with the still wet clothes on it...well, it kind of renders your efforts of washing the clothes, changing into regular clothes, and hanging the wet clothes out with clothespins rather useless if the balcony is filthy since they just get all dirty again. Note to self: Mop balcony this morning after changing into regular clothes.
I´ve learned that the gusts of wind here can be pretty strong, even in the enclosed back patio, and that whenever you hang out clothes, you must use clothespins! I hung out Angel´s sleeping bag on the line in the enclosed patio (windows from all the neighbors look into this patio. Think square..hollow in the middle). Figuring that it would be ok that I just doubled it over the line to dry I went about my business. Well, the sight of his sleeping bag slung on the clothes line of our 3rd floor neighbors (if we had any) is testament enough that I will always use those clothespins. Of course I had to be the one to knock on the neighbors´ door to sheepishly ask them for the sleeping bag back. As luck would have it, flat 3 door 6 (we are flat 6 door 12) is vacant. So, I have no way of retrieving that sleeping bag unless another gust comes along and blows it into the first floor patio...that of the BREAD WOMAN. Note to self: Always use clothespins! No short cuts here!
Me and the Breadwoman
There are pros and cons to small town life...so they say. I haven´t figured out the pros yet...but the cons..well...that´s another story. As many of you know, we live above a bakery. It´s wonderful to wake up every morning to the aroma of fresh baked bread. Wait till you come to visit to experience it for yourself! What´s not so great is that the Bread Woman is the town gossip. Or at least for our "finca" (apartment building). One evening, DH decided to spoil me and went to the grocery store to buy some ice cream and then stopped at the bakery to pick up some sinful no-nos. Well I´ll be damned....The bread woman says to him..."I see that now that you have a fridge, you are buying ice cream. Oh, and I hear that you have a woman living with you". Of course DH, with his ironic sense of humor and hating small town life as much as I do, says to her "yep, I have a woman all for me. And the best thing about it is that I don´t even have to pay her!". Needless to say Breadwoman was horrified. She didn´t know whether or not to take him seriously. For a couple of days, I had to bear strange looks from the people in my apartment building. Finally after some pleading on my part, Angel went back to the Breadwoman and clarified that he didn´t have to pay me because I was his wife. He explained that we got married about a month ago in the USA. Phew!! Note to self: Be careful of what you say to the town gossip.
Elevator Conversations
So I think I can go about my business in private without anyone needing to know who I am or what I am doing. I guess rollerblades in small town Spain are a real wonder, even moreso when sported by a woman. The looks I get...well anyway. It´s amazing how all my neighbors know me. I wouldn´t know them if I tripped over them. One thing that you must know about elevators here in Spain....they are very small! Maximum of 4 people can fit in them and heaven help you if your neighbor just came back from grocery shopping. There is the Bajita who lives on the 2nd floor (bajita = short). I mean she is really short. She comes up to my elbow. No lie. (That is not a slam to my short friends). I feel like an ungainly giant in the elevator next to her. Anyway, yesterday she says to me..."so how are you adjusting to life here in Spain?". How did she know I am not from here? I have never said anything to her! Of course this was just as I came back from my morning run so I am sure there is some fodder for gossip somewhere in there. Later on in the afternoon I squeezed into the elevator with two other neighbors who just came back from grocery shopping (mother and grown daughter). I was going to wait for the next elevator but they insisted. Not only did they insist but they said, "come on in, you get off before us anyway". I must have had this perplexed look on my face because the older woman said "yes, we live in the flat above you. So, if you ever need anything...". Yeah, I need something. I need to know how you knew who lived below you? I have never seen you before in my life! Oh yes, there is something else I need...I need for you to stop dragging your chairs across the floor. They make an ungodly noise at midnight! I took the opportunity to introduce myself and explain that I was the newly married American living in the building. Hopefully that will have squelched any remaining gossip spread by Breadwoman. Note to self: Just when you weren´t looking, everyone knows who you are. No mystery here.
It´s now 9:30 am...time for my morning run (I have given up on the rollerblades until they are finished repairing all the town streets). You won´t get this until 6pm my time (Spain is 6 hours ahead of the USA east coast...you do the math) since that is when I will log online. Hopefully you have enjoyed my observations and even got a chuckle out of my experiences so far. C´mon...not even a smile?
I found that I have to do a few things in a certain order to be an effective housewive. First, I must change out of my flimsy bathrobe into regular clothes before hanging the clothes out to dry. Living on the 6th floor, with our clotheslines on the balcony facing the main street...you can see everything from down below. All it would take would be a good gust of wind and well...you get the gist. Funny thing is I figured this out when I was coming back from my morning run yesterday and happened to look up to our balcony. I was horrified when I thought about all the times that I went out on the balcony just in my long nightshirt!! Note to self: Always put clothes on before going outside.
I also have to remember to mop the balcony before hanging out the clothes. City dirt (well in my case small town dirt) has a knack for finding nice white tile and sticking to it. When the wind comes along and blows over the clothes drying rack..with the still wet clothes on it...well, it kind of renders your efforts of washing the clothes, changing into regular clothes, and hanging the wet clothes out with clothespins rather useless if the balcony is filthy since they just get all dirty again. Note to self: Mop balcony this morning after changing into regular clothes.
I´ve learned that the gusts of wind here can be pretty strong, even in the enclosed back patio, and that whenever you hang out clothes, you must use clothespins! I hung out Angel´s sleeping bag on the line in the enclosed patio (windows from all the neighbors look into this patio. Think square..hollow in the middle). Figuring that it would be ok that I just doubled it over the line to dry I went about my business. Well, the sight of his sleeping bag slung on the clothes line of our 3rd floor neighbors (if we had any) is testament enough that I will always use those clothespins. Of course I had to be the one to knock on the neighbors´ door to sheepishly ask them for the sleeping bag back. As luck would have it, flat 3 door 6 (we are flat 6 door 12) is vacant. So, I have no way of retrieving that sleeping bag unless another gust comes along and blows it into the first floor patio...that of the BREAD WOMAN. Note to self: Always use clothespins! No short cuts here!
Me and the Breadwoman
There are pros and cons to small town life...so they say. I haven´t figured out the pros yet...but the cons..well...that´s another story. As many of you know, we live above a bakery. It´s wonderful to wake up every morning to the aroma of fresh baked bread. Wait till you come to visit to experience it for yourself! What´s not so great is that the Bread Woman is the town gossip. Or at least for our "finca" (apartment building). One evening, DH decided to spoil me and went to the grocery store to buy some ice cream and then stopped at the bakery to pick up some sinful no-nos. Well I´ll be damned....The bread woman says to him..."I see that now that you have a fridge, you are buying ice cream. Oh, and I hear that you have a woman living with you". Of course DH, with his ironic sense of humor and hating small town life as much as I do, says to her "yep, I have a woman all for me. And the best thing about it is that I don´t even have to pay her!". Needless to say Breadwoman was horrified. She didn´t know whether or not to take him seriously. For a couple of days, I had to bear strange looks from the people in my apartment building. Finally after some pleading on my part, Angel went back to the Breadwoman and clarified that he didn´t have to pay me because I was his wife. He explained that we got married about a month ago in the USA. Phew!! Note to self: Be careful of what you say to the town gossip.
Elevator Conversations
So I think I can go about my business in private without anyone needing to know who I am or what I am doing. I guess rollerblades in small town Spain are a real wonder, even moreso when sported by a woman. The looks I get...well anyway. It´s amazing how all my neighbors know me. I wouldn´t know them if I tripped over them. One thing that you must know about elevators here in Spain....they are very small! Maximum of 4 people can fit in them and heaven help you if your neighbor just came back from grocery shopping. There is the Bajita who lives on the 2nd floor (bajita = short). I mean she is really short. She comes up to my elbow. No lie. (That is not a slam to my short friends). I feel like an ungainly giant in the elevator next to her. Anyway, yesterday she says to me..."so how are you adjusting to life here in Spain?". How did she know I am not from here? I have never said anything to her! Of course this was just as I came back from my morning run so I am sure there is some fodder for gossip somewhere in there. Later on in the afternoon I squeezed into the elevator with two other neighbors who just came back from grocery shopping (mother and grown daughter). I was going to wait for the next elevator but they insisted. Not only did they insist but they said, "come on in, you get off before us anyway". I must have had this perplexed look on my face because the older woman said "yes, we live in the flat above you. So, if you ever need anything...". Yeah, I need something. I need to know how you knew who lived below you? I have never seen you before in my life! Oh yes, there is something else I need...I need for you to stop dragging your chairs across the floor. They make an ungodly noise at midnight! I took the opportunity to introduce myself and explain that I was the newly married American living in the building. Hopefully that will have squelched any remaining gossip spread by Breadwoman. Note to self: Just when you weren´t looking, everyone knows who you are. No mystery here.
It´s now 9:30 am...time for my morning run (I have given up on the rollerblades until they are finished repairing all the town streets). You won´t get this until 6pm my time (Spain is 6 hours ahead of the USA east coast...you do the math) since that is when I will log online. Hopefully you have enjoyed my observations and even got a chuckle out of my experiences so far. C´mon...not even a smile?
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