Homesickness?

Ugh, that heavy feeling again. What is it?

Homesickness? Well, yes. Sort of. But homesickness is a constant now that never goes away - not even when I am home, because my home is neither here nor there. It is something never found again.

Regret? Maybe that is not the right word. Maybe frustration that I could not have chosen more than one way. Sadness for the doors I have closed along the way to be able to go through this one.

Is this normal? Is it part and parcel to being "foreign"? A constant state of re-examination of what-ifs? Or is this what any mildy neurotic thirty something feels that has not had children yet to take away that curse of looking at ones wrinkles in the mirror too much or the sickness of dwelling on paths not taken, (wrong?) turns, U-turns...

God, I sound so unhappy. It is not like that. How lucky to have had a life with so many brilliant choices. I chose this one, which was the greatest. So what now? Forget the past? But I am too afraid to lose my memories, or that the only universe that exists is this one -- and not the one with the open Arizona roads and a cabin in Strawberry, and wood-paned walls, and vintage blues.

It is fading.

And I do not remember a time when I did not think in Spanish or have Luis at my side.

But it is scary to think of the essence of me dissovling into this morphed version of myself that I am observing as if from the outside. This person that feels almost Spanish on the inside, but will never be Spanish to anyone else.

American as ever here, far from American there.

Ugh. Who am I? How did I get here?

"Naci en Alamo"

No tengo lugar

No tengo paisaje

Yo menos tengo patria

Con mis dedos hago fuego

Con mi corazon te canto

Las cuerdas de mi corazon lloran

Naci en Alamo

Naci en Alamo

No tengo lugar

No tengo paisaje

Yo menos tengo patria

-written by Dionisis Tsaknis

"I was born in Alamo"

I have no place

I have no countryside

And even less a homeland

With my fingers I make fire

With my heart I sing to you

The chords of my heart cry

I was born in Alamo

I have no place

I have no countryside

And even less a homeland

Mackin Ink put it so well. "oh, i must be homesick. which is only a problem when you realize you're already at home".


-Bluestreak

Arizona Highway from Flickr by Embot

Original Video Clip Vengo with Remedios Silva Pisa

The Whole World

In Spanish the expression “Todo el Mundo” (literally, “The Whole World”) is what people here say when they mean “everyone”. A bit exaggerated? I think not.

You decide to spend the day at the beach. Not only is the Whole World on the highway heading there, but once you get there, the Whole World is already at the beach.

You decide to go shopping at the Corte Ingles. The Whole World is there. Get me out of here, you think. But you stay until around 2:00 and then the Whole World leaves to go home for lunch. The place empties out because the Whole World eats lunch at the same time.

You want to go to the Arabic Bathhouse on a Saturday? No, no spots left. The Whole World has been booked for two weeks already.

You want to go for a bike ride instead, taking advantage of that new public bike system you signed up for? No, no bikes left, anywhere in this city. The Whole World is going for a bike ride, apparently.

What is it with this place? It seems like whenever something new happens, it just gets overcrowded with people. I just do not buy claims that the birthrate here is dangerously low, requiring government incentives for having kids (apparently the Whole World decided to just have one kid, which isn’t enough to support the Whole World on social security). All I hear about are horror stories about there not being enough spots in the public or private schools, and two year waiting lists for child-care, and the like. Not to mention the crowded playgrounds with kids literally lined up by the dozens for their lone chance to go down the slide.

Do any other Americans living in Spain get the feeling that this place is freaking crowded in every aspect???????????

I guess it could be worse.



-Bluestreak

Crowded Bus from Flickr by Poggis

Dirty Women

As per Kate´s request, I have decided to address the dreaded issue of housework in the context of mixed Spanish/American marriages.

Cleanliness standards here are based on an antiquated division of labor in the family that is obsolete.

I can rationalize this shit historico-sociologically until I am blue in the face, but the fact is, if someone were to stop by my house RIGHT NOW (A Spanish person, that is), they would not think “Oh my god, those people are slobs”. They would think “Que perra es la Bluestreak”, and dear husband would be left out of the equation altogether. They might even sympathize with the poor guy for living with a woman that does not own up to her responsibilities (which have done nothing but multiply exponentially over this period of egalitarian “progress”).

I think this is what bothers me most of all regarding this whole topic, the frowning upon the wife who does not do her job. Not that I was not also bugged by the marital problems I experienced in the past when I realized that I, Bluestreak– biggest slob I know, and utterly incapable of cleaning up after myself-- had somehow mistakenly been designated RESPONSIBLE for an even bigger slob than myself if that is humanly possible; my husband.

Initially I kicked and screamed. Nothing would extinguish the feminist fire in me (really the slob in me). And then one day I said, “Fuck it, I´m getting a maid”.

And I did. Marriage no longer a juggernaut experiencing downward spiral.

What a cop-out feminist I am, you say. And, yes I HAVE thought about the fact that my privileged situation has allowed me to employ another woman/cheap laborer and perhaps I AM contributing to the problem and not solving anything. My ability to NOT clean has been allowed by cheap female labor. Progress???

I do not see things this way though, as I do not undervalue the profession of cleaning (or childcare). This work is low paid (well, wait, it actually is not that low paid here) and has a stigma attached to it because it just so happens that it has always been associated with women. But that is not the real issue. The real issue is, I just do not have time for everything, dammit.

And if I am gonna work 50 hours a week TOO, I will be damned if I am gonna spend Saturday cleaning the entire house BY MYSELF. So I decided, it is either fair and square chore list or fork it over for a cleaning lady.

This has not solved everything. My dear cleaning lady only comes once a week for four hours. The dishes still need to be done, the crap still needs picking up, and the laundry still needs to get done. I would love to say that all this stuff has been so fairly divided between my husband and I but that is not the case. But, my husband is one hell of a cook and this has saved him many a hard night of wife-nagging. That combined with the cleaning lady, and, well, I am in a much better mood nowadays.

I do not think this addresses Kate´s question about the unrealistic expectations in Spain with respect to domestic cleanliness. But I think that will be solved a generation (or two) from now when houses are altogether dirtier because there just is not enough time in the day. Or, maybe kids will even have to do chores over here, just like we did in the U.S.

I think in the future the old ladies will definitely stop sweeping the street.



No time for that in our future.