Six years ago, my father drove me, my brother, the precious Boo, and Chloe kitty (RIP) to the Philadelphia airport, from where we were to depart on a great adventure. Well, my brother not so much as he was mainly just along for the ride, the airline requiring one human per each traveling pet, although that said some may say that spending a week with Big Jim and me is sort of an adventure as well. ;-)
Sitting here reflecting on the time that has passed, I cannot help but think how many changes have taken place in such a relatively short period. I often feel as though this seemingly sleepy town (change #1, we when moved here it was decidedly a village, but with the expat population explosion this is no longer the case) is on sociocultural overdrive.
When Big Jim and I first laid eyes together on this town, we saw the great potential to live a simple, quiet life away from the hectic bustle of city life, among people who lived a quiet way we envied, a life free from the trappings of a consumer society obsessed with buying and spending and buying and spending some more. The surrounding countryside was stunningly beautiful, a majestic 6000-foot peak and national park bordering the northern edge of the village, and if that wasn't sufficiently gorgeous, the Mediterranean glistened just 10 miles away. It was not difficult to say, "Yes, I suppose this will do." And when faced with a doubting stranger I first met at a mutual friend's birthday dinner, who upon hearing our plans, said, "You mean to tell me that you are moving almost 4000 miles to live with some guy you have never lived with before in a country where you don't even speak the language? Are you CRAZY?!" I poo-pooed the man, who I just thought was being an ass, but I suppose in hindsight, his response wasn't so very much out of line. Although technically I did speak Spanish fairly well, but he didn't know that.
To say that the past six years have been a roller-coaster of a ride would be a serious understatement, but that is not to say that life would not have been just as bumpy elsewhere. And if not for the Dark Years, I don't know that mylifeinspain would have been birthed. As the recession and Big Jim's unemployment stretched to almost three years, I turned to my writing as a safe place to work out frustrations and contemplate our life here and from that mylifeinspain the blog evolved. This was just one of the many good things that came out of a very difficult spot for both of us.
But to answer Naranja's question from a couple entries ago, yes, it is almost certain that Big Jim and I will be moving from the village some time later this year. Multiple factors have led to this decision, many of which I am sure faithful readers could probably name: the irresponsible and often-illegal construction that I fear will eventually destroy much of the town's original character, the inundation of expats in the past few years (and the fondness of many to do little but sit around and booze all day), the fact that there hardly any people in my age group living here and thus I often feel as though I live in a version of Boca Raton full of Hyacinth Buckets (pronounced Bouquet!) and find it difficult to relate and find friends with whom I have much in common. I once described this last feeling to a friend back in the US as though I live at about 70% here because many of my interests and aspects of my personality have been put into storage along with most of my possessions until Big Jim and I find a place to settle that is better-suited to us and our needs.
Ultimately, though, what Big Jim and I are looking for has not changed much since we first set out in search of a place to plant some roots. This little corner of Spain, however, has. Where once the only cause for traffic delay was the goat man and his herd or perhaps a very nervous tourist, the roads are now full of SUVs and cement mixers. There are far fewer olive and almond trees in the valleys and many, many more hideously ostentatious McVillas. And as far as I can see, most of our Spanish neighbors have embraced American consumerism like nobody's business. No, when Big Jim and I and the fur bundles pack up for good it most certainly will be without regret.
Which is not to say that we won't be frequent travelers back to Spain for we have fallen for the nearby coast, one large town in particular that miraculously has remained Spanish despite the invasion of northern Europeans (and thus I would never breathe its name here!), and so we are saving for a little vacation apartment there. Plus, there are miles of this wonderful country to explore, and it will be easier now that I can speak the language so much better than I did when I arrived six years ago.
Last week when I came back to the house from Spanish class, Almendena was at her door, gabbing with her cousin. She of course knew I was coming from class as there is little about our routine that she doesn't know (and honestly vice versa), and she said, "R., by the time you leave Spain, you will speak better Spanish than I!" Which was a serious exaggeration, but I had to laugh. And no matter where Big Jim and I land, it will be nice to know that as long as Almendena can fill her buckets and gossip and go to church all will be well on our little street.
hasta pronto,
mylifeinspain
3 years ago: Big chill
2 years ago: No entry.
1 year ago: No entry.
