Take It To The Bank

Our six year anniversary of arriving in Spain is fast approaching. I have been thinking a lot about the most important things we’ve learned in all that time. I even wrote about it recently. The housekeeping of deciding to live in rural Spain. But there are other things, as well. Things you have to experience. More subtle stuff that you can’t explain to anyone who hasn’t lived it themselves, yet.

Moving here, the two year mark is the first hurdle. If you make it two years, after you’ve done your first visa renewal and filed your taxes, you have a decision to make. Will you stay or will you go? Is this life in Spain really for you? Have you learned enough español to get by? Are you ready to get out of reaction/temporary mode to everything new and move into living mode? Are you prepared to stop complaining about how different everything is and recognize that this is just how you live now? If not, it’s time to go somewhere else.

You Got People

We have lived in two different places in Spain – Valencia and Palas/Melide – for three years each. And it’s at that three year mark that seems to matter. Not just with us but with the people living near us. When we left Valencia our neighbors next door came over and cried, hugging us. It took two years before they believed we were really staying. And in that final year, we were finally invited in to light off fireworks with their children during Fallas. To help us with medical things. To drive Jeff to pick up our car on the A3. They didn’t know we were leaving Valencia, but they knew we weren’t leaving Spain. And, thus, we were worth the investment of friendship. And I completely get it. Why spend time with people who are not staying?

And now, we have lived here on the farm for almost three years. And it’s finally starting to happen here, too. Yes, Maricarmen embraced us right out of the gate, but other neighbors are doing so now, as well.

I walk from Melide to our house 7-8 km, four to five times a week. I’m in training. More on that later. But it takes me forever to get home and Jeff scratches his head as to why. On our way Fergus is an ambassador. I might appear unremarkable, but not Fergus Black– as they call him. So everyone on the route remembers us. I am now invited to enjoy a coffee on my way with people I didn’t know this time last year. Women wave to me from their gardens or kitchen windows. I am stopped at the dragon ducks – as Jeff and I call this farm – for a chat with the grandparents of the people who own a restaurant in town, and who own the local milk truck. An old man who walks his dog is often sat on a rock, and he chats me and Fergus up as the dogs sniff each other.

People hug me and give me double cheek kisses. They ask after Jeff, and I ask after their spouses and grandchildren, before they wave us goodbye until the next day. I like that people stop to chat. No one is hurrying around. The garden or the dishes can wait. I feel seen here. Like my presence matters.

On the way home I pass my housekeeper, Chus’s house. I think she sees me go past sometimes. Last weekend, she sent me photos of her hiking group hiking through local megaliths. It looked like fun and I told her so. The group photo of the 30+ participants were awash in smiles.

‘You should join us, Kelli.’

So, on March 2nd I am joining the Toques hiking club to go on another of their historical hikes.

Jeff and I were discussing why this is. Why, suddenly, it seems like it’s okay we live here. We aren’t such strangers anymore.

‘It’s because they can count on your presence. They know we are not leaving. And, a few times a week they know that Kelli and Fergus Black will walk by. You’re predictable.’

He’s right. I go to the grocery store now and I see so many people I know. They smile and wave. Sometimes, their little children do too.

‘¡Hola! Kelli.’ in their little-kid Spanish. I wish I spoke as well as a three year old.

New Kids

Now that we have lived in Spain all these years (that sounds strange, but it’s true), it can be difficult to relate to people who have just arrived. Not that we don’t understand what they are going through. Or how difficult the adjustment can be. We have lived it. We know. But, it’s that we find ourselves in the same boat as Spaniards. Will they stay? How much are you willing to invest in someone who won’t be here next year? And, I’ll admit, now that we live here permanently, it can be difficult to hear people complain about the country in which you have chosen to live. Their current concerns have been lost to mists of time, and are no longer your concerns. I know the bureaucracy is HELL! Even Spaniards know this. Our neighbors are furious for us with the food truck. But, sometimes it wears on me when so many conversations turn to this amongst english-speakers. Imagine only talking about the nightmare situation in the US while you lived there. You would decline every invitation from your friends back home if that was all they wanted to discuss.

I can talk until I am blue in the face about how this thing or that thing will pass. I can give advice, and tell them not to worry so much. But, they don’t know what they don’t know. And they can’t know it until they’ve lived it. I get it. It will be years before they sit where I sit now.

The other day, I was having lunch with an American friend. We were discussing this very thing. She has been here several years, as well, and we were talking about how we’re in a different place than the new expats we meet. It can be tedious, especially when they insist they know, when you know their information is going to get them into a heap of trouble, if they rely upon it. More and more, I keep my mouth shut. My own wise counsel. Not everything requires a response. Even answering questions on expat FB forums isn’t something we are focused on anymore. There is a search function on FB. They can get the answers they need, without our comments, if they want them.

It Takes Three Years

The three year mark in any one place is when you get people wherever you live in Spain. Spanish people. Especially if you try to learn español. We are convinced of it. Until then, it can feel lonely. But having people is everything here. And, after six years, that is wisdom you can take to the bank.