Moving to Spain has taught me a lot. It’s made me fluent in Spanish. I’ve learned how to navigate the metro system and bureaucracy. I’ve learned how to make foods I miss: crackers and peanut butter and Ranch dip. (Though I still long for bottled Ranch dressing and cottage cheese.) But more importantly, I’ve become a more-independent, self-assured person. I found my media naranja. I came to terms with just how important my home country is to me.
A lot of us experienced changes when we moved here. You feel me, auxiliares (and former auxiliares)? We learned just how little we knew about English grammar and Spanish slang. But we’ve also learned to love new foods. Thus, I asked some of you what foods you’ve learned to love since moving to Spain. Your answers were fun to read, and I’m listing them here.
As they pass you by, the parade participants hand out mini cups of wine, sloshing a bit on the ground … but who cares? It’s Toro and wine is abundant today. Others hand out slices of spicy chorizo or slice off some jamón serrano for you to sample. I was lucky, as I seemed to get more wine and food than the rest of my party. We called it the efecto guiri, the guiri effect.
I’m beginning to think the American men dating Spanish women are a rare breed, because I’m back today with another interview of an American woman dating a Spanish man. These don’t get old for me, because every one of my interviewees has had something new and different to add to the conversation. Let’s let our newest subject introduce herself.
I’m Chelsea, I am 26 years old and I’m in Spain for the wine. Just kidding (sort of). I first came to Spain for a summer program in college in 2009. I fell in love with the country and was determined to come back, so I applied for a Fulbright grant and surprisingly won! Without the push of the grant as well as the prestige and free airfare that came with it, I’m not sure I really would have gone through with it! I made the official move in September 2010.
How did you meet your fiancé?
Mario called it The Zamoran Invasion. My friend’s Spanish husband referred to it as The Spanish Invasion. Whatever you want to call it, invasion or otherwise, it was definitely chaotic. But also fun. We showed our guests, my in-laws, quite a few places and events, all of which I’ll get around to discussing eventually, but for now I’d just like to list a few stray observations:
A Zamoran, invading