There's still some left in there!!

During my trip to the States this past summer, I spent a weekend with my college friends in a cabin in North Georgia. It started slowly. My friends started arriving and unpacking. First out were the ipods and laptops with their respective accessories and cords. A little while later it was the occasional iphones and pdas and super slim digital cameras. And finally, it was me, thinking, "Wow. That is cool. And that. And wouldn't it be nice to have that." And suddenly I was in my American frame of mind, wondering what all I could stuff in my bag to take back to Spain.

Woah! Where did that come from? In Spain I don't think that way!

During previous trips I rationalized my (almost) crazy shopping trips with reasoning like:
- technically I'm on vacation (true)
- I never find clothes I like in Spain (very true)
- with the exchange rate and sales, I'm getting great deals (also true)
But during this trip I realized that it isn't confined to shopping and spending. It's lots of things.

In the US I am shocked when: people (especially Spanish or Mexican people) are very casual about being late, things close at 6 or 7pm, there are more than one type of soft drink in anyone's house (or there are soft drinks at all), everyone respects that some people have pets and love them.

In Spain, I'm amazed when: I go to the doctor for free, shop workers are rude, old women cut in line at the supermarket, children use appalingly bad language.

Of course, it is normal to have things in each country that you don't like. But I have discovered that it isn't merely that I don't like them. I find that the same thing that bothers me in the US doesn't bother me in Spain, like people being late for everything. My way of thinking shifts to the norms of the country and culture I'm in at the moment, although it does it subconsciously. At times I catch myself thinking something completely contrary to what I would have thought only weeks before. It's almost like having two different personalities. I wonder, will one fade as I spend more years in Spain?

PS. The photo is of a jar of peanut butter I bought in July of 2007. I figure it's got a couple more crackers worth left.

What is a Marriage?

As you can see in my profile, I am recently married to an amazing Spanish man. I went into the marriage a little unprepared, I will admit, for being married. Maybe that seems really very obvious, but it wasn't to me at the time.

I've been living in Spain for more than three years now, the last of which my now husband and I were living together. I had the idea that Spain and life with my partner couldn't hold that many more surprises for me. I thought that the time of feeling completely out of place with Spanish ideas was long past, yet now I'm finding that it's not. While of course I'm experiencing changes in many different areas, I'm going to talk about the one that I'm having the hardest time with.
Being married in Spain.

My husband and I agreed to get married in the US and then return to Spain to live. Before the wedding I had flirted with the idea of combining American and Spanish customs, specifically with hyphenating my last name (giving me "2" last names, which every Spaniard has and since I don't have a second, gives me endless minor problems). However, after finding out the paperwork involved, I decided to wait a year or five and proceed with the name change if it was something I really wanted to do. And although my last name might be the most insignificant part of the entire marriage, it has come to be a symbol for me for ways I perceive each culture looks at the institution.

What's in a name? For me, changing a name is a symbol of creating a new family, in which one day you might share that name with your children. When flying into the US, once you're married, you get to fill out only one customs declaration per household and my husband even gets to come with me in the immigration line (the ultimate authority on all things legal and binding). Now that's what I call joining together. Creating something new and completely yours.
The feeling I get in Spain, however, is that marriage is a social contract of two individuals who have decided to combine resources to the furthering of their common good. No changing of names. No changing of immigration lines in Madrid. No joint tax declarations (you can if you want to, but most people find it's better to file separately). In fact, every legal thing you are able to do once you are married, you are able to do when you are still single. It makes me feel lonely, even when I'm in exactly the same relationship I would be in if we were in the US.

So, what is marriage to Spaniards? From what I gather so far, in my 2 months of being a wife and after countless baby/pregnancy comments, it is merely the institution into which one has children. On one hand, I applaud the Spanish for being independent beings and independent thinkers. I am still the same person with my own opinions, history and family. Yet, on the other, I am eager to start creating (not only children) with my husband, and finding my footing is a little more difficult than I had imagined.

Bathroom break?

This is one of my favorite pictures of Spain. I found it posted in an open area under a block of apartments in Valladolid. The reason I like it so much is because it is so hilariously true. Who hasn't been walking down a street in any large city in Spain and suddenly been assaulted with a strong smell of urine?

When I started thinking about today's post I went through, in my mind, all the possible directions a post like this could take. It is definitely true that learning how to gauge when and where you are going to find a public bathroom, and what and how much you should drink in relation to your previous bathroom calculation is a vital skill every American has to master if they are going to comfortably live in Europe for any amount of time. But why do we Americans have such a hard time on the bathroom front? Is it that, as with many other things, we drink liquids in excess, thus needing to use public bathrooms in excess? Is it that we depend on our cars, making our destinations farther and farther from our houses, thus causing public facilities to be a necessity in every single possible location? I don't know how it came to be, but it is definitely true that everyone I know takes for granted that wherever they are, there will be a bathroom available to them.

So here we have the Spanish paradox. You cannot pee in supermarkets (except the very large ones in shopping centers), you cannot pee in any shops. You probably will be able to pee in stations and in restaurants or bars, but that's only if the toilets are working and even then toilet paper is a definite privilege. And, all in all, Spanish people seem to be completely fine with that. Yet, why do you find that certain streets or corners always smell like urine and it is not uncommon to come across a grown man or teenager aiming at a tree in a park or on the side of the road?

Now, I'm not claiming that all Spanish people regularly pee outside whenever they please. And I will not claim that I, personally, have never peed outside in Spain or the US. All I can say is that I was, a few months ago, at a Spanish gathering of a family where there was a 3 or 4 year old boy present. We were all sitting outside, enjoying some olives and the weather, when the child suddenly ran over to a tree, pulled down his pants and peed on it. Not only was the boy not discouraged from peeing in the backyard when there was a (functioning) toilet less than 10 feet away, the family seemed to be delighted. That, I fear, is the beginning of another street pee-er.

Here

"Here" is Spain. More specifically, Toledo, in Castilla la Mancha. When I first moved to Spain I was living in El Puerto de Santa Maria a few months. At the first opportunity I moved to Madrid, and after two years, to Toledo. My husband and I have been here a little over a year now.

Spain is now the country that I call home. I moved here in complete ignorance. The fact that I knew that I didn't know anything about the country only made the move more exciting for me. I couldn't wait to learn to speak Spanish, learn how to cook new food, learn my way around new cities and a new culture. Now, when I look back over all that I had to do those first few years, I'm almost overwhelmed. But I learned like babies learn, with my eyes and ears open all the time, taking in a new life without realizing all the new things I was going to sleep with.
I don't know if I could do it again.
But it still isn't over. It seems like almost everyday I come home with a new story or a new word to think about and add to my growing database! Lots of times it's funny, and I can't wait to post about some of them.

There

"There" is Georgia, USA, where I was born and grew up.
Here's a picture of my house in November, with the trees full of fall colors.

This is the place where I return. This is where I feel most relaxed
and comfortable, where the food is completely normal and I've heard all the jokes a hundred times before. This is where I know how to act in (almost) every situation and I never struggle to communicate with the people around me, be they family or strangers. This is, now, my place of vacations, of visiting my family and of shopping. This is where, at the exact same time, I'm not surprised by anything and yet constantly overwhelmed at the amount of everything. This is where I'm home, yet no longer feel at home. This is what I miss.

The Beginning

Here's a start to a new blog.
I've been doing a lot of research online recently about freelance writing, and I realized (quite dramatically) that I need to be in the habit of writing more frequently. Sometimes I really miss the days of Hungary (2004-2005), when I was lonely and it was cold, when I had all the time in the world to think, daydream, and write letters to Emily and Jose.

And even though I'm nowhere near that anymore, here's my beginning to getting back in the habit. And since I heard from someone, sometime that every blog should have a theme, not just be random insights of the author, in order to be followed well, here's mine, as indicated by the title.

This blog will follow me through living in Spain (and all the craziness of the Spaniards), traveling back to the US (and all the visits with my family), being newly married (gosh) to a Spaniard (wow) and everything in between that happens to everyone.