Category: Living in Spain

Yesterday I linked to an article in the Telegraph by a young woman who didn’t like all the smoke she had to put up with while pregnant in Spain. The article mirrored sentiments of my own and, importantly, those of my wife Marina when she was pregnant here in Madrid.

What I found shocking, was the ferocity of the comments left on the Telegraph website, after the above-mentioned article (they were almost Daily Mail bad!) Most were along the lines of ‘stop complaining – if you don’t like it, leave Madrid – it’s not your country, so deal with it’.

But here’s the point. If the expat who wrote the article complains about the smoking in Madrid, she is lambasted as a moaning foreigner with no right to do so… no matter how long she’s been here…

If Marina, a Spaniard, moans about exactly the same thing, no-one would doubt that it’s her right to do so.

So the question is, how long do you have to live somewhere, be it Madrid, Sydney, or Bangkok, before you really do form part of the framework of your new home country, before you really can call it your own, and thus have the right to make the exact same complaints as the locals?

Just thinking out loud, but it’s a tricky one…

In a survey I recently took about being an expat in Spain, I was asked whether I had every ‘put my foot in it’ culturally or linguisticly since arriving 11 years ago… and one experience came straight to mind.

A few years ago Marina and her sister were swimming in their parents’ pool up in the sierra beyond Madrid. As I sat on the edge lazing around, Marina’s sister swam up behind Marina and, as one does in swimming pools, playfully ducked Marina’s head under water.

Marina emerged seconds later with a wild exclamation of: “ZORRA!”

Zorra (noun) = female fox, or (slang) whore

“Zorra Tu“, shouted Marina in return, and they both splashed about laughing.

Now there’s an inventive use of the language I thought, one for the databanks, can’t wait for an opportunity to try it out myself!

The next day, back at the poolside, two of Marina’s oldest friends, a married couple, came round for tea. Pool antics ensued, and when Marina pushed me from the side into the water, I seized my chance to try out my favourite new word:

“Zorrrrrrrrrraaaaa!” I cried in delight, when I resurfaced….

” – – – “, replied Marina, a mute expression of total disgusted horror on her face.

Later, long after they had left, and Marina still hadn’t spoken to me for about 5 hours, in desperation I managed to corner her in the kitchen for the following enlightening conversation:

Ben: “What the hell is wrong?”

Marina: “Are you stupid or what?”

Ben: “Clearly, because I haven’t got a bloody clue what’s wrong with you!”

Marina: “Don’t be so ridiculous, I can’t believe you don’t know why I’m so pissed off…”

Ben (pausing for divine inspiration): “Ummmmmm… Nope.”

Marina: “YOU CALLED ME A WHORE IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS, IDIOT.”

Ben (wracking brains for proof this might be true): “Um, are you sure?”

Marina: “You called me a Zorra when I pushed you in the pool!”

Ben: “Oh yes that, ha ha, I’d been waiting to use that for ages!”

Marina: “…eres un gilipollas, vamos…” (=You stupid d*ickhead)

Ben: “But… but you and your sister said the same thing to each other in the pool just the day before!”

Marina: “THAT’S DIFFERENT!”

Ben: “???”

And so another part of my Spanish education was complete. Your wife may call her sister a whore in front of you, and her sister may equally be-whore her in return, and it’s all good fun!

But woe betide you if you dare to presume to learn by mimicry. What works for one person in situation A, is by no means available to you in the similar, but almost-inappreciably-different, situation B.

I tried to explain this to Marina of course, that I was just a victim of the ‘witness, commit to memory, try it out soon’ school of language learning, but sadly she was still slow to forgive. Took about four years if I remember correctly before the whole event was truly forgiven (but not forgotten).

So be warned! A Spanish woman may be a zorra in front of her sister, but never in front of her friends.

I’m all for not thinking toooo hard before making life-changing decisions, but when I moved to Spain in 1998 I was young, free, and single… so it was a bit of a “no-brainer”.

However, I’ve noticed a few comments on the blog recently from people wrestling with the decision: to move to Spain or not to move to Spain.

So, in no particular order (but all important!) here are 9 things to think about (even just a tiny bit!) if you are planning a move to Spain:

1. Language: Do you speak Spanish?

I turned up here 10 years ago without a word, but as I planned to be an English teacher in Spain for the first year, this didn’t really matter. Plus I planned to get very fluent very fast, which, with classes, intercambios, and massive motivation, I managed.

But will you have time to learn Spanish? Will you need it for a job? Are you bothered about it?

In general, I would say: count on needing to learn Spanish if you want a successful life in Spain. If you live outside the expat zones on the coasts, do not expect people in banks, landlords, people on the end of a phone etc, to speak English.

No problem anyway, learning Spanish is fun!

2. Expat guilt: Will you face it?

Are you leaving people behind that you will feel guilty about? Do you have responsibilities at home you really might feel bad about running away from? This isn’t the case for everyone, but where possible I highly recommend tying up any loose ends before you go that might tug at your conscience later. Or getting work here that frees you up to pop back often…

3. Work

What are you going to do for a living in Spain? Working in Spain is not as easy as it was where you came from, unless you plan to be an English teacher in a big city.

Spain is in the middle of its own economic crisis, and has very high unemployment at the moment. So make sure you think ahead, or better still, have something lined up for when you arrive.

If you arrive without work, aim to have at least 5,000 Euros in the bank before you get here to tide you over while you find work in the first few months.

4. Responsibilities

Will you be bringing a spouse, or children, that depend on you? Then things get a LOT more complicated. You need to work out what they are going to do in Spain too, work-wise or school-wise, and you need to have a LOT more money in the bank as a safety net before you arrive, not to mention a job lined up or very very solid plan.

If this is you, read this cautionary tale about leaving Spain.

5. You may never want to leave

OK, enough of the ‘warning shots’ above, this one is positive. Be warned that once you get here, you may stay forever… I planned to be in Madrid for a month, Spain for a year. That was 10 years ago, and I’m still in Madrid. It’s great, but something to keep in mind!

6. You may be changed forever!

Moving to Spain long term will almost certainly make you more independent, broaden your horizons, and will enrich and stimulate you mentally and culturally.

What’s wrong with that? Nothing! But you may find that after a time you loose touch with life and culture back home, and only have half a clue what’s going on here! It’s a weird transition, but in the end, you may end up more culturally Spanish than whatever you were before.

Again, no problem, but makes it hard when you go home for a visit and you have no idea about the celebrities, scandals and TV shows your old friends are talking about at dinner parties.

7. New friends

How good are you at meeting people and making new friends? Where will you find them? Lots of idea on that in this forum post: A happy landing in Spain

8. Leaving your comfort system behind.

By way of summarising the scary bits above, you will be leaving established work channels, friends, support systems… weather systems for that matter! You will be stepping out of your comfort zone. Make sure you are feeling good, fit, mentally strong, and up for an amazing challenge. And be determined to fit in with your new surroundings (see “The Ex-Pat Manifesto”…)

And don’t worry, as I always say, if I can start a new life in Spain, anyone can…

9. Over to you…

What would you add for number 9? Please add to the list or just comment below!

OK, I said I was too busy to post this week, but I really shouldn’t make rash statements like that, clearly.

In the forum there is an interesting discussion about the new system for EU foreigners resident in Spain and how they should carry ID. In the past we all queued up for insane amounts of time to spend hours in awful police stations to eventually be given an incredibly useful credit card-sized piece of plastic called the NIE card.

This included name, address, tax ID number, signature, and fingerprint (!) – it made you You in Spain, and you really can’t do anything without it. Buying in shops with a credit card, checking into a hotel, signing up for anything, all necessitate this wonderous little plastic me.

Now it is being phased out (mine expires in June), and replaced with an A4 piece of paper declaring us to be foreign, that will need to be carried at all times together with your passport!

What a pain! Now, in my case, having been resident for 10 years, and married to a Spaniard (which may be less relevant), I have a feeling I can apply for some sort of more permanent nationalisation that would allow me to apply for and carry a DNI (the Spaniard’s credit-card sized ID card with all the info).

That’s not the only reason I’d be happy to become more half-Spanish, but it is a good one – you cannot underestimate the usefulness of that little card! Does anyone know anything about the viability of this? Can a Brit end up with a DNI?

Not often this wonderful meteorological miracle comes to pass, when Madrid’s difficult micro-climate allows the snow that’s been falling on the nearby sierras to creep within the city limits.

The city grinds to a halt in surprise of course, and it never lasts more than 24 hours, but I made sure to get a quick morning walk in the Retiro, with many of the other city’s photographers!

More photos of the snow on Flickr

A question we often ask ourselves… should we stay in Madrid forever, nearby? Or somewhere completely different? Where would you like to live in Spain? Where should we? Watch the video and comment below!

Ten years ago today, on August 30th 1998, I left the UK for Spain. It was a move born to a great extent out of desperation. I was nearly 26, living in London, with no real job or income, and no reasonable plans. After making a few random applications, I had been offered a place on a TEFL course in Madrid two weeks previously, decided to go for it, and from there one thing after another just fell into place. A friend told me at the time that I was very brave, all I knew was that I was plain terrified.

Ten years later it’s fun to look back and see what Spain has given me:

A wife, new friends, a beautiful new language, endless travels and new landscapes and, through a hell of a lot of hard work, a business we love that keeps me and la wife out of an office job and covers the mortgage. I certainly couldn’t have predicted that last one!

Obviously a lot of those things could theoretically have been achieved if I’d stayed in the UK, or gone anywhere else, but it certainly feels like I was meant to come here, and that some of these things might not have happened so well had I not wound up in Spain.

An interesting part of living so long in a new country is that you become bi-cultural, but in a weird way which I’ll try to explain. I totally lost touch with the finer aspects of British popular culture years ago (who the hell is Russel Brand?), but still feel nostalgic if someone mentions British childhood favourites like the Magic Roundabout.

Conversely, I know lots about Letizia Ortiz and enough about David Bisbal, ZP, corruption in Marbella and the speed of Spain’s trains, but am completely lost when Marina laughs at jokes based on TV characters from her Spanish childhood (who the hell is el hombre de Pescanova?!)

So when I say I’m bi-cultural, I mean I’m culturally British up until the age of 26, then mildly imbued with Spanish culture from that point on. It’s a bit odd.

It means that when I’m back in the UK I get a kick out of the familiar homely tones of BBC1 or Radio 4, but am lost as to half of what they are talking about, as if I’d gone to sleep in the late 90’s and just woken up to a completely different version of the day to day UK. On the other hand, having not been born into it, much of Spanish popular culture (just about anything on daytime TV), really doesn’t ring the right bells, of hit the right spots…

None of this matters of course, it’s just a minor disconnect on both sides of Ben – English Ben, and Spanish Ben – that sometimes leaves me mildly… … Spanglish.

Other random thoughts:

Marina says that Spain has made me a worse driver, I agree. After 10 years of seeing how no one else pays complete attention to the all the rules of the road, it’s hard not to let standards slip oneself.

At home, Marina and I talk to each other in a terrible mixture of English and Spanish, often switching mid sentence, and occasionally mixing in our own made-up cross-breed words (“I’m feeling a bit agobiated”).

To my continued surprise, I really like Morcilla (blood and rice shaped into a sausage).

If England played Spain at football, I’d be with Iker’s team in a flash.

I sometimes feel at least 50% Spanish.

Spain has done me very very well, and as usual I’d encourage anyone thinking of making a similar (in fact, any) bold move in their life to go for it. Big changes need bold moves. When I made mine I was young, free and single, and that undoubtedly made it a hell of a lot easier. If you are none, or only some, of the above, you can still take a step into the unknown, just think carefully about what backups you should have in place first.

Anyway, enough of all that, here’s to another 10 years in Spain, and a whole lot more after that!

For more on my escape from London, my first three years in Spain and meeting Marina, don’t forget to read “Errant in Iberia”!