Category Archives: travel

Moon of Honey (Luna de Miel)—Venice

In Spanish, honeymoon is luna de miel; literally “moon of honey.” If you’re my husband (ohhh, doesn’t that sound weird and oh so nice at the same time!), a moon made of honey would be welcome. Mario and Winnie the Pooh love honey about the same amount. If you are what you eat, Mario would be bread, olive oil, and honey. Probably in that order. (I would be tomatoes. Boring.)

Thank you for letting me completely off track. We spent our honeymoon in Italy. Italy! To Spaniards, Italy is a short plane ride away; to me, Italy is a dream honeymoon. I imagined Venice, its canals snaking quietly through the city, Florence with its marble-covered cathedral and Renaissance art invading every church, Rome with its quiet ruins … we got all that. I forgot to imagine the heat.

We arrived in Venice at 10 p.m. and stepped out of the airport in search of a bus. I had forgotten how humidity envelops you, invades your lungs and your pores, causes the air itself to feel heavy and dense. We nearly gasped. Oh yes, the heat was already upon us. Sweat, we would.

Luckily, our hotel, located right on the Grand Canal, had air conditioning. Sweet, sweet, environment-destroying air conditioning. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

We set off to explore the city immediately after breakfast, winding our way down alleys and stopping at numerous dead ends, consulting the map every two minutes. Venice was a maze, but we were determined to conquer it.

We found our way to Piazza San Marco, St. Mark’s Square, where the Basilica of San Marco overlooks one of the most beautiful piazzas of Europe, the heart of Venice. To the right of the Basilica is the sea, the bay of San Marco, which was the way the people arrived—by boat. Also in this square is the Doge’s Palace (try not to read that as the dog’s palace). The Doges were the rulers of Venice for over a thousand years.

There are more pictures of me because Mario is very camera happy

If you lived in Ancient Venice, you had to be wary of your neighbors. Around the palace we saw these mail slots, which were for nontie serete (secret denouncements), if you wished to snitch on your neighbor for their wrongdoings. And there were no appeals for death sentences. Good luck!

Afterwards, we wandered around a bit more and tried not to get lost

Mario’s new boat

Venice in the afternoon

Everybody was hot that day

Next we splurged on a gondola ride. Sure, they’re totally a tourist trap, and they definitely overcharge. But still, you’re only in Venice on your honeymoon once, so live it up. Back in the 17th and 18th centuries, this was a major form of transportation, and there were upwards of eight to ten thousand gondolas in that time period, whereas today there are only about four hundred, mainly used by tourists.

Our gondolier talked to Mario about Italy’s defeat in the Eurocup and then took a few phone calls

We came back to a big leak in our room, so we headed downstairs to reception to ask for help. They changed our room … to a suite overlooking the Grand Canal, which normally costs approximately a gazillion dollars per night. Score! They told us we would have to change the next day, but in the end we got this amazing room for two whole nights. Needless to say, we didn’t complain.

We also couldn’t complain about our breakfast setting. The breakfast itself was superb, with everything from tomato juice to yogurt with toppings to scrambled eggs to meats and cheeses. And, of course, lots of cappucino.

Back in Piazza de San Marco

We spent a lot of time in Venice exploring. Besides the Piazza de San Marco and the Doge’s Palace, there’s not a whole lot of “sights” to see, but there are a lot of places to be explored. Including a very interesting bookshop that I thoroughly enjoyed. But don’t ask me how to get there.

Venice is not made for the busy tourist. Instead, it’s for the tourist with time and patience, the one who wishes to be and not do. It’s hard to accept for some, but once you do, Venice grabs hold of you and stays with you.

Photo by Mario

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Scenes from Ávila

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Another check mark on my list of cities to see in Castilla y León: Ávila. It seems Mario has family en todas partes, and thus our visit to his aunt and uncle’s house did not go by without a visit to the famous muralla de Ávila (wall of Ávila).

Ávila is known for its wall (seen above), as well as where Saint Teresa of Ávila was born. Santa Teresa de Jesús is the patron saint of headache sufferers (apparently), so if you’re suffering from a headache, she’s your woman!

Ávila Wall2

This guy popped his head out. What a weirdo.

Picture of Mario’s family (L-R): Mario’s godfather Alberto, his godfather’s children Sergio and Sara, his brother Víctor, his uncle Jesús, Alberto’s wife Lola, and his father Jesús.

Ávila Wall6

A lion statue in front of the cathedral

But Ávila’s real claim to fame is that its famous sweet, Yemas de Santa Teresa (egg yolk cakes), are actually too sweet for Mario.

Who knew such a thing was possible?

Have you ever been to Ávila?

Photography Assistance

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I’ve never been a great photographer. It’s not that I don’t have the skills; I’ve just never dedicated much time to learning about the in-depth parts of shooting with a DSLR. In high school, I took a photography course (which threatened to derail my GPA, no joke), but we learned on old-school-style cameras. I used a Pentax K1000. It was actually a lot of fun, because we got to develop the photos ourselves, use filters, and generally mess around in a dark room, which—when you’re 17—is actually a lot of fun.

Well, I think I posted on Facebook a while back that it’d be nice to have a DSLR for Europe, because if you can’t find a good use for a nice camera in Europe, where can you? (Right?) Well, my parents have given Mario and me a Canon Rebel T3i.

Having experience with my mother’s older version of the Canon Rebel helps, but I’m still ready to go more in depth, to learn more about depth of field and lighting and RAW vs. JPEG.

So, since it worked so well last time, readers, please give me any advice that you may have. I know many of you own DSLRs, and I’ve seen your pictures. Do you have any suggestions? For example: tutorials, websites, books, ideas for practice, etc. I’d like to get in a lot of practice and knowledge before our trip to Italy. Thanks!

How Do You Travel?

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I read a lot of travel blogs, and don’t get me wrong—I love them—but I’m admitting it: I’m no traveler. You may be asking yourself, Wait. If she’s no traveler, why is she always traveling? Good question, my friend.

It’s for the food. Yum! (Kidding. Mainly.)

I like staying put, whether that means staying put in the US or staying put in Spain. I like my home, my things, my comfort zone. I like knowing I’m insured. You know, lame things like that. I know that these aren’t great excuses—heck, there’s even backpacker insurance out there for you people who are adventurous (read: more adventurous than me)!

Me at my most comfortable: warm pub, a good drink, and great company.

Nowadays when I travel, it’s mainly to reunite with that boy of mine or to see friends/family (like my trip to Houston last July). I am not a person that has a natural itch to travel just for travel’s sake. Instead, I have to be prompted by pictures like the one above or by posts about other blogger’s 7 Super Shots.

Sometimes I do feel a bit alone in the travel blog/expat blog world. I mean, I love seeing new places, true. But I also love my bed. Are these things irreconcilable?

All Atwitter

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I tweet, do you?

Now, in my everyday life, I come up against a lot of resistance to Twitter, which I just do not understand. People tell me, “What do I care about if you just went to the grocery store or ate something delicious?” I just want to stomp my feet and yell, “You do not understand Twitter! The purpose is not to tell others what you ate for lunch or about your latest trip to the bathroom!” But then I struggle to explain to them what, exactly, it is about.

I admit it—I love Twitter. Much more than Facebook, actually, although Facebook does have its uses. Why Twitter? Well, because Twitter makes me aware of things. Twitter has been the way I’ve learned breaking news stories. (Thanks, Trending Topics.)

Twitter is a democracy. Celebs often interact with us plebes. You can talk to anyone (though they may not talk back). People who don’t know you can follow you, just because they’re interested in what you have to say, even if you’d never be “friends” on Facebook.
You can get instantaneous feedback. You can ask your followers a question and get tons of responses, like when I asked for opinions on where I should go in Italy.
Hashtags. I love using hashtags, which are just words or phrases preceded by #. If you add # before something, it’s instantly searchable. My favorite hashtags? #IUBB, #Spain, #ESL, and #learnSpanish. Apparently, some people really like #TTOT, or Travel Talk on Tuesday, where you can ask/answer questions about travel every Tuesday at certain times.
Education. I love linguistics. This is no secret. I follow a lot of linguistics blogs on Twitter, and I’m always to find something interesting to read.
Pure entertainment. Sometimes I get bored. Luckily, I have a smartphone and Twitter! This is a winning combination for curing boredom. I just hop on Twitter, laugh at my friend’s tweets, and write something inane, hoping someone will gratify me by replying.

Those are my reasons for using Twitter. What are yours? I’ll leave you with some of my favorite Tweeters (I’ll spare you my #IUBB tweeters, as that’s not this blog’s audience, but rest assured I’m wholly obsessed with the Hoosiers):

@CyLesVida: Castilla y León es Vida tweets all about one of my favorite comunidades, Castilla y León. I love keeping up with the news. Plus, they retweeted me!
@LongReads: Long Reads tweets out “the best long-form stories on the web.” I save these on my Kindle and read them when I have a free moment.
@WinesfromSpain: Wines from Spain tries to raise awareness about the deliciousness of Spanish wine in the US. Although I need no convincing, I love reading about Spanish wine nonetheless!
@Fundeu: Español Urgente is where I learn matices of the Spanish language. Sometimes I disagree with their prescriptivist perspective, but that’s just how Spain approaches the Spanish language nowadays.
@GeoffNunberg: Geoff Nunberg is the resident linguist for NPR’s Fresh Air, and I always love his segments. I am hopelessly addicted to linguistic blogs, so this just feeds my addiction.
@GuiriBullshit: Guiri Bullshit is hilarious if you’ve ever worked as an auxiliar de conversación. As they say in their self-description, “Over 2,000 Americans go to Spain every year to teach English in public schools. Far less of them have a clue.” Truth. But they don’t tweet enough!

Of course, there are always my friends. I want to include you all … but I can’t!

Seven Super Shots

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Why yes, I am a follower? Why do you ask? Liz tagged me in her post, so I couldn’t resist; besides, I’ve loved all the other ones I’ve read.

My 7 Super Shots are not all superb photos; instead, they reflect a super moment, one that took my breath away or brought me to tears or causes me endless nostalgia to this day. Here goes …

1. A photo that … takes my breath away.

This photo was taken in Lisbon, Portugal, in February 2008. I was studying abroad in Toledo, Spain, and this was my first international trip. I was so excited, as I had always wanted to go to Portugal. Seeing the bridge, the 25 de Abril Bridge, reminded of another bridge, a bridge I’ve yet to visit, the Golden Gate bridge. It was twilight, serene, and utterly beautiful. To this day, I find it hard to fathom such a picture-perfect moment.

2. A photo that … makes me laugh or smile.

Back in the fall of 2010, I took a day trip with Mario’s family to Puebla de Sanabria, a quaint little village just a stone’s throw from Portugal. We went with his cousin, his cousin’s wife, and their children. Here’s little María, who kept us constantly entertained with her stories. Here she is, telling one I can no longer recall, but looking at this photo still causes me to smile.

3. A photo that … makes me dream.

This photo was also taken on that trip to Sanabria. The rain had just started to fall when we settled in for a nice café. After a short while, the rain let up, and the sun came out from behind the clouds. Naturally, a rainbow (un arco iris) soon emerged, leaving us in awe of its magnitude. I honestly have never seen a rainbow almost touch the ground like this one.

4. A photo that … makes me think.

This photo was taken in April 2011, during Zamora’s Semana Santa (Holy Week). The ones down in Andalucía get all the press, but Zamoranos take pride in theirs and think—naturally—that theirs is worth visiting as well. It is. Even Italians know about it. It makes me think about tradition, and family, and pride in one’s home, something I don’t always see a lot of in Spain. I love seeing the Zamoranos excited about their town, proud of its beauty and heritage, eager to show the world.

5. A photo that … makes my mouth water.

This photo, taken during Zamora’s Renaissance Fair in 2010, literally does make my mouth water. I love cheese, especially the cured kind that’s so common in Spain. This stuff isn’t cheap, though, so I relish the opportunity to eat it—especially if someone else is buying.

6. A photo that … tells a story.

Toledo is a place I’ll always remember and love. It was my first home in Spain, the place I first got to hear the castellano accent of which I’ve grown so fond, the place I felt desperately homesick, the place I remember as where I learned not only about the outside world but about myself, the place I cried and laughed and was sad to leave.

This photo was taken during my first few days in Toledo. It was warm and sunny and I was enchanted—the typical honeymoon phase, but I didn’t care. We stopped in every shop, browsed through every shelf, talked to strangers easily and willing (if in halting Spanish). This man’s shop was found on a small Toledano side street (and aren’t they all side streets in Toledo?). He explained to us what he was doing, known as damascene (in Spanish: damasquino), the art of “interlacing gold on iron or steel to produce beautiful decorative designs.” (Source) He asked us—time and again—”¿Entendéis?”, hoping that we did understand and could fully appreciate his work.

7. A photo that … I am most proud of (aka my worthy of National Geographic shot).

I shared this photo in my post about Castilla y León, but I love it. It was taken during my parents’ visit to Spain in April 2011. This is in Segovia, atop the castle, looking out onto the road below. Here I see ancient meeting modern—if you look hard enough, you’ll see a small car winding its way around the hills. To Spaniards (and many Europeans in general), this juxtaposition is nothing new; to me, however, it’s fascinating, beautiful. I love the ancient feel of Spain, the way I can walk the cobblestone roads just like Cervantes, the way the buildings still cast cool shadows onto the hot streets in summertime, the Plaza Mayor of every city teeming with people to this day, the feeling that you are connected with the past and that, someday, the future will be connected to you.

Say Hello to my Mother: Guest Post

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Before I let my mother take the reins, I’d just like to say that I hounded her to do this, and she finally obliged. She wants to be crazy rich and famous, so naturally that means she’ll get her start on Y Mucho Más. You may not realize this, but I’m, like, totally famous. (NOT.)

Here’s Donna. (You may also wish to read this entry, because she’s great.)

Funny how it seems like just yesterday we drove to Chicago to take Kaley to O’Hare airport for her first international flight. She was studying abroad in Toledo, Spain, for the spring semester of her junior year in college. She was so excited. I was jealous but happy for her. I loved the thought of going to Europe and living and studying in another culture. My friends and fellow parents often comment on how it seems that just one generation made the difference in the popular trend of traveling abroad. When I was growing up, it was rare for anyone unmarried or below the age of thirty (old enough to pay for an expensive trip on their own) to study abroad or even travel to another country.

As we said our goodbyes, Kaley never looked back. Her dad and I (especially her dad) had a few tears. I knew I was going to miss my daughter and she too would miss us. She was ready to go and experience the world. I was ready too, because I hoped she would learn to appreciate home.

Kaley made friends quickly, but in some of her early phone calls, she expressed her feelings of loneliness. Once we made definite plans for her father and I to travel to Spain during her “spring break,” she had something to look forward to and quickly acclimated herself to Spanish living. Our Skype discussions were filled with tales of travel and late night escapades. She told us that Spaniards ate dinner late and stayed out late. We found out it was definitely true on our first visit to Spain.

We flew to Spain during Holy Week (the week before Easter). We had the best tour guide, one named Kaley. I bragged that she was so good at Spanish and I insisted she was fluent. She adamantly argued with me that she was not, but two years when later we went back to Spain … she agreed with me that she was indeed fluent in Spanish.

In the late spring of her senior year of college, Kaley accepted an internship with a mission-based group in Salamanca, Spain. She was ready to return to Spain and live for the entire year. In early September we again drove her to Chicago with a one-way flight to Spain. She had insisted she wasn’t coming home for Christmas, as it was too expensive. By the time December rolled around, she had changed her mind and booked a ticket to be with her family during the holidays. We didn’t object too much.

In late September during one of our Skype visits, Kaley informed me that she “accidentally” flirted with a guy. She stated, “I don’t know what to do about it.” She wasn’t supposed to be dating anyone during the internship, per the rules of her workplace. I thought she sounded genuinely concerned that she broke the rules. However, she later was rather pleased that she had broken the rule. In a few short weeks she called to say she was dating this awesome, cute Spanish guy. She was swooning over the phone. As I am a mom, I quickly warned her that dating someone from another country could become very complicated. I think she reverted back to being a teenager at that moment. She exclaimed, ”Oh Mom, that is silly, it is just the same as dating someone in the US.” My response was to quietly say a prayer, as I had always done as I watched her grow up. I asked God to bless whatever was in His will and please don’t break my little girl’s heart. God must have had Mario in His plan because two years later he’s stuck around.

Still here, two years later.

Kaley has spent about two years off and on in Spain. There have been ups and downs. She has been homesick, she has spent more time in the Madrid airport than anyone should have to, and she’s learned to live without the things she loves here in the States. She has been taken into and loved by a wonderful Spanish man and his family. She has learned to cook delicious Spanish food. She has traveled to many places in Europe and learned to appreciate the wonderful history and culture of Spain and the rest of Europe.

This culture includes cheese. Lots of cheese.

As I contemplate the future, I know that Kaley is in good hands. She loves her Spanish family and cannot say enough good things about them. I feel good when I know Kaley has “parents” in Spain. Jesús and Pepita worry about her when I’m not there to do it [Kaley: and cook for me too!]. When she is not in Spain, she misses them like she would miss her family if she were away from them. I want to thank Kaley for bringing Mario into our family. It wouldn’t be the same without him. We feel like we have gained a son as well as a new country.

(Sorry so blurry.)

L-R: Mario, Jesús (Mario’s dad), Randy (my dad), Pepita (Mario’s mom), Carol (my grandma), Donna (my mom), Richard (my grandpa), me

4 Reasons Why I Love Castilla y León (And Why You Should Too)

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I am still a member of the Spain auxiliares’ group on Facebook. Why? Good question. I like to take a peek in there every now and then, as the discussion can get entertaining. The latest comment thread I read (it was from November, I think) was highlights and how some poor girl was willing to travel “anywhere” to get them done correctly. I couldn’t really identify, as I’ve never really dyed my hair (that time with a slightly reddish-brown shade doesn’t count; it was barely noticeable), but it was an amusing thread nonetheless.

I joined the 2011–2012 auxiliares’ group back when I was still in Spain. I don’t live there currently, nor do I wish to sound arrogant, but I do know a thing or two about Spain. (Reasons include: study abroad in 2008, internship in 2009, being detained in the airport due to visa issues in 2010, chilling with Mario in Salamanca in 2010 for three months, and a year teaching English in Zamora [from 2010–2011].) Sometimes I felt qualified to answer their questions, so I did. When I was first applying, the group wasn’t that active, and I had approximately a zillionquestions, many of which I just had to find out about on the job.

One thing I notice(d), though, is the lack of love for some regions of Spain. Okay, I get it—you want to live on the beach in Málaga, walk Las Ramblas in Barcelona, eat the best pintxos of your life in País Vasco, live la vida madrileña in Madrid … I do understand.

But why no love for Extremadura? None for Castilla-La Mancha? Or, nearest and dearest to my Spanish-American heart, Castilla y León? I found these questions puzzling—still do. I know, I know: they aren’t glamorous and they aren’t near the airport and you most definitely cannot spend Carnaval on the beach like you can (supposedly) in Cádiz*. But I want you to know that, if you choose one of these regions (or other lesser known ones), there’s no reason you can’t have the best year of your life. Here’s why I love Castilla y León (and why you should too).

The Spanish spoken there is, they say, “pure.” Now, let’s not get into linguistic debates about this because I know all accents have merit and if you can understand a Gaditano, you can understand anyone. But I’ll tell you one thing—these people speak like the people you hear on TV, the news announcers, the academics. I love the accent. (Mario has the best one.) I love the ceceo and leísmo. What’s more, this accent has become the neutral Spanish accent to me, much like the General American Accent is neutral to me in English. I know there’s technically no neutral, but to me, it’s the norm. And I like it.
The food. Sure, San Sebastián gets all the good press with good reason. The food there is astonishingly good. Nonetheless, I believe wholeheartedly in the value of a good Castilian meal. I don’t mean what you get in a bar when you’re having a coffee—this is often rather hit or miss. What I mean is the food you get in someone’s home, someone who has taken the time to lovingly prepare a hearty, delicious, and almost always healthy meal. Mario’s mother, my suegra, is a marvelous cook. Her food is, without fail, fresh, delicious, homemade, and (most importantly to any good Spanish woman over fifty) filling. I can’t get through one plate without her asking me if I want more. There usually have to be two denials before she’ll stop asking. She’s introduced me to lentejas, cocido, patatas a la importancia, pescado a la plancha, solomillo adobado, aceitadas, roscón de reyes, pan de queso, menestra, potaje de garbanzos, natillas con un toque de limón, and many more. (Not to mention homemade salchichón, which is my favorite thing. Ever.)

There’s also meat and potatoes—more my dad’s style

The Scenery. There’s much to be said about Barcelona, Madrid, and Galicia (all gorgeous places in their own right), but I’m partial to my adopted home in Spain (no duh, right?). I love Salamanca’s Plaza Mayor, Zamora’s old Roman bridge, Ávila’s Lord of the Rings-style wall, Segovia’s aqueduct. I love the ancient feeling of it all, and this feeling was no strong than whehn I saw the Roman statue of Romulus and Remus in Segovia. Just thinking of the Romans—the Romans!—being there millennia ago gave me goose bumps.

The Heart of Spain. Spain has been stereotyped as the land of bullfights, flamenco dancers, sun, and beaches. When the average person (not Hispanophiles) thinks of Spain, Castilla y León is probably not what comes to their mind. That’s okay because I truly believe what the Lonely Planet says when it states that CyL is “Spain without the stereotypes.” It may not be a place you go expecting to be wowed—and you probably won’t gasp in amazement too often—but it’s a place that will give you a peek into the heart of Spain. This heart of Spain is growing ever older, ever feebler with each passing year, and I fear that much of its everyday magic will soon be lost, forever hidden in the annals of the great libraries. Every year, it seems, there are fewer births—there are few children on the playgrounds, yet the park benches are full of ancianos. They too are a window to the Spain’s soul, a soul found everywhere, but, for me, most vividly in Castilla y León.

If my grandma can do it, so can you.

You should visit.

College Study Abroad—If I Could Do It All Again

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I get a lot of emails regarding study abroad and applying to be an auxiliar de conversación. Understandably so, as I talk a lot about Spain and my experiences there and how I feel now that I’m back home. People ask for recommendations of places to eat, drink, and see the sights. I’m definitely happy to (try to) help them out, but I often wish I could give them a list of general advice …without sounding stuck up. My biggest piece of advice is to put yourself out there and go study abroad! It truly is an experience that every college student should experience. Even a student working on an online bachelor degree should pack their computer and experience another country. With the world as connected as it is today, we can often forget the value of experiencing places in person. I feel a bit sorry for all the people who attend college online through an online college program or students attending smaller schools that don’t offer study abroad opportunities. Beyond this obvious piece of advice, I had difficulty coming up with my own recommendations of what to see and experience. And then I realized what I…

First day in Spain. Ever.

would like to tell Kaley (age twenty-one).

Life in Spain is just that: life. It may be life in Europe, but you still have to do your laundry, write papers, and go grocery shopping.
You will walk. A lot. In the U.S., walking distances longer than to and from your car, especially in winter, is not common. This will change. You will walk everywhere—in the pouring rain, in dreadful heat, when you’re tired, when you’re not, when you are hung over, when you’ve got a caffeine withdrawal headache … you will walk.
You will make embarrassing mistakes. You will make mistakes that are not embarrassing as well. Live; learn; deal with it.
You will eat a lot of pork products. It’s really unavoidable.
You will feel frustrated and realize your Spanish has a long way to go. This is okay. This is normal. Embrace it, and realize that the only place to go is up. A note: you will not be fluent by the end of your study abroad journey unless you left for Spain with an absurdly high level. This too is just fine.
You will feel like a foreigner. Um, you area foreigner. Yes, you—all 5’11”, pale, freckled, American-faced you. You aren’t Spanish, and people might automatically switch to English when they hear your accent.
You will be homesick at times. You might just be more homesick than other people. This does not make you weak or lame or any of those other negative words that haunt you as you try to fall asleep. You may struggle at times—with the language, with the culture, with the schedule—but you will come out stronger on the other end.
You will feel disconnected from home. Life, like it or not, will go on without you. Your parents will buy new furniture. Your former roommate will bond with someone new. Your car may not be around when you get home. (Yes, this happened to me in 2009. Blame my brother.) You may get on Facebook and ask yourself, Who are these people?
You will worry about money. Yes, some people will travel every weekend—London, Rome, Paris, Greece, Morocco, Lisbon. Save your money. Travel where you have always dreamed of going. Remember that there is value in staying home, visiting your bar, walking the streets of your new (albeit temporary) home.
You will go home and feel nostalgic. When you return, whether or not you experience reverse culture shock, you will remember how you felt. You will remember the smell of incense in the cathedral, the taste of tinto de verano, the sight of Toledo across the river, the feel of your scratchy comforter as you fell asleep in a city older than your own country. You will listen to songs that make you cry, remembering what you had there, realizing you’ll never get that back. Be okay with this, this nostalgia of yours. It’s fine to miss it.

Life goes on, but you’ll remember.

Entry written because I’m totally nostalgic right now. Please forgive me.

How to Continue a Positive Bilingual-Bicultural Relationship

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One of the best parts of writing a blog are the people you “meet.” While I’ve not met any blogger friends in person, I’ve had the opportunity to interact with a lot of different people, whether that be fellow bloggers or people who just like to read my blog. I especially love emails, and always love to hear from you! So if you’ve ever thought about saying hey, please email me at: kalhendr[at]gmail[dot]com.

So I’m very happy to introduce my first ever (!) guest post from my friend, Melanie. Melanie, like me, is in a relationship with a Spaniard. What’s distinguishes her from most of my friends who are in relationships with Spaniards is that she and her husband live in the U.S. In Texas, to be exact. Thus, she has a unique perspective – one that I think we don’t get to hear a lot about in my corner of the blog world. Anyway, I’ll let her take over from here.

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Whether it is marriage that has strengthened your commitment to your foreign partner or some other less formal arrangement, continuing a bilingual/bicultural relationship may not be as easy or the same as first starting one. After learning how to deal with and coming to enjoy each other’s similarities and differences in the beginning of a relationship, here are a few tips for a continued rich personal and cultural experience for you both:

Customs

Embrace each other’s cultures wherever you live: do not let where you live dictate the extent to which you appreciate each other’s cultures. For example, I find it extremely endearing that at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve, Spaniards individually greet and wish each other “Happy New Year” with two kisses. On the other hand, I also appreciate the way that celebrating birthdays is a little bit more fun and special in the US with birthday cake, presents, and parties (customs I haven’t noticed as much in Spain). Enjoy each other’s traditions by following them wherever you are. It may make your partner feel special that you remembered something significant from his or her culture and brought it to life in your own.

Turrones

Food and Drink

While it’s easy to compare whose country may have better cuisine, my advice is that it’s better not to make the contrast because this battle will never end! Instead, enjoy both countries’ gastronomy by learning each other’s family recipes or purchasing cookbooks (I personally recommend Culinaria Spain, edited by Marion Trutter for those interested in Spanish dishes). Wherever you live, make an effort to cook each other’s favorite dishes. For example, it is my personal goal to always learn a new recipe from my mother-in-law every time we see each other. Making these dishes later keeps my husband happy.

Tortilla de Patata

People and Travel

While you may have enjoyed visiting your partner’s pueblo the first few times around, remember that a person’s hometown is always special to him or her. Even if going back to visit a small town on numerous occasions isn’t as exciting as packing up to go on a cruise or other exotic vacation, try to enjoy the experience through your partner’s eyes, childhood, and relationships. Learn new phrases from in-laws. Ask your partner to take you to one of his or her favorite childhood spots – whether it be a hangout, school, look-out point, etc. There will most likely be a story that goes along with the ride. And remember, most importantly, that family members and friends will always be happy to see you whenever you go back to each other’s hometowns. I always ask my husband to take me to the Mirador de Cáceres because the sights are that beautiful!

La Parte Antigua de Cáceres

Enjoy the journey

You may not know where you will live in a few months, next year, or for the rest of your life with your partner. That’s okay. Remember to enjoy where you live in the moment, and know that you are probably there for a justifiable reason: job, family, health, etc. It’s easy to become anxious thinking about the future and how this whole bicultural-bilingual relationship will work out. But being too focused on the future can impede moments shared together focused on building understanding and deepening that cross-cultural love that brought you together in the first place. Remember that several simple moments of joy can add up to an overall rich and happy life.

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Thanks, Melanie!

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