Weeks 3 & 4

Well hello guys

It’s now officially been a month since my arrival in Spain. I really feel like I should write about everything that I’ve done in the past 2.5 weeks since I updated my blog but there is so much to say and it seems like I’m not even able to find the time running from one thing to another.

The weekend before last we (Katherine and I) went to Sevilla because it was a bank holiday Monday. I’ve been wanting to go to Sevilla for some time so it was the perfect opportunity to do so – it was five hours drive both ways though but completely worth it.When there, we couchsurfed with a French guy, Olivier and we met some of his French friends and went for a few apéros and soirées à la discothèque!

Last weekend was fairly chilled out as it was money-saving time (I don’t know when I’m going to get paid but it doesn’t seem like it will be anytime soon ha) so we finally walked up the hill in the town to the castle. It was worth it!

We also bought bikes – so shiny and new and beautiful. I really hope my bike in Manchester doesn’t get jealous of this temporary relationship…

We’ve been to the theatre TWICE this week, which is probably the most cultured you could get in life really. Lorca has a small but impressive theatre and we saw a Spanish production of Mamma Mia! (which was entertaining to say the least) and also Madama Butterfly the opera on this Tuesday. What can I say – all cultured out!

I finally got my Spanish residency card – it’s taken me about three weeks and so many different trips to so many different official places (I have a few friends in high places now, and possibly enemies…) but today’s experience was undoubtedly the most absurd.

I was in the police station for the third time today, trying to find out if I could see the “jefe” (boss) who I spoke to last time. (NB. I am on first name/nickname basis with him “Juanjo” and I also have his mobile number). I got told some ridiculous nonsense about having to phone up online and book a time to see him and then there was some even more ridiculous nonsense about waiting two weeks for an appointment. If you’d ever been in this town you’d know that is complete rubbish. So I made it relatively clear that I knew that was rubbish and eventually he told me to join the queue (which only had about three people in it anyway).

Juanjo was in his office with and English/German couple and I was reading my book outside when suddenly he appeared in the doorway and went “Oi Raquel, you’re English aren’t you” (in Spanish) and I suddenly found myself mediating between the Spanish police boss and the English couple (who were trying to get a temporary NI number to buy a car, but didn’t want to apply for a residency card as they only live in Spain six months a year). I managed to explain this to Juanjo, who had been under the impression they wanted the card (in which case I would have told the couple – GOOD LUCK you may never get it, I don’t even have mine yet) but he gave them a number, signed a paper and it was dead easy. It was fun being an interpreter for ten minutes! I was actually amazed that I was even able to do that in Spanish after only a month.

The other big thing that happened last week was that I made a dramatic hair decision. For some time, I’ve been wondering what I’d look like if I chopped it ALL off. It’s been an ongoing wonderment for at least a year and a half – but only a wonderment. I did my research (Pinterest). I asked friends for their advice (most gasped, paused then said “well..if you really want to” – which doesn’t help) and generally I looked in the mirror a bit, squinting, trying to imagine my face without a mane surrounding it.

BEFORE.

After!

I went for it in the end, and I have to say, I think it was the best hair decision I’ve ever made. Easy to brush, easy to wash, no styling required. Every girl’s dream.

Having my hair cut like that felt like a big risk though – I’m not going to lie, I felt nervous in the chair when she was hacking away with scissors, babbling away in rapid Spanish. But like so many things in life, sometimes when you’ve wanted something for a long time and you have to eventually say “it’s now or never” (followed by YOLO).

So…it’s a short post this time (for me, ha) but I could summarize the first month in one word: testing.

Being here sometimes feels like I’m taking a massive detour in life. Why Spanish? Why here, and why now? I’ve wanted for a long time to go to a Spanish speaking country and learn Spanish, learn about Spanish/Hispanic culture and, let’s be honest, become trilingual! The testing bit has only just come now that I’m here though. Since my first week, there’s been massive culture shock. Compared with French, my level of Spanish is decidedly more basic. Quite honestly, I have had many, many moments of wanting to do a massive U-Turn back to the UK.

It isn’t going to happen though. One month later, weighing up the delights and the horrors so far, I know that culture shock is just a matter of waiting it out. Not being able to speak Spanish is clearly a lie I’ve taught myself – today’s interpreting at the police station made it clear to me that although my Spanish is far from perfect, it’s already streets ahead from being a total beginner. And as for the whole, what am I doing here, why now, what next? saga in my life…well…what else would I be doing if I wasn’t here...?

One thing’s for sure, I probably wouldn’t be writing this blog.

Hasta luego chicos!