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8 things I love about Spain

Yo. I’ve been writing this post in my head for weeks and months! I keep waiting for time and space to write and I guess I just finally got here for the first time in 2026.

We love it here so I have a lot to put on this list! It’s linguistic and cultural, it’s everyday stuff and deep stuff that you’d never think about unless you’re an outsider looking in.

So, here are a bunch of things I love about this place in no order at all:

  1. Spaniards place a high value on being OUTSIDE. I’ve realized this in many ways throughout our time here, beginning with the throngs of people sitting at tables as far as the eye can see during summer evenings. To be expected, right? But then it started to cool off as winter approached. The throngs did not diminish. In the dark, in the cold, at midnight, the throngs still occupied all the outdoor tables to the point that finding seats is competitive even in chilly weather. Then, 2 weeks ago, I met up with friends in Las Setas for drinks around 6pm—and, obviously, we sat outside. It was dark, and around 50 degrees. I stepped inside to use the bathroom and NOT ONE INDOOR TABLE was occupied. This hit me hard because wow—in the US no one would be sitting outside in those temps at all. They DO draw the line at sitting in the rain, though yesterday I saw people huddled under an awning, in 50 degrees, while the rain was actively coming down, enjoying their beers.
This is Plaza Alfalfa on a regular Sunday afternoon after days of rain. Mucha gente!

2. We got bikes! All 3 of us! The truth is that it’s pretty hard to bike in the centro given all the cobblestones and narrow passageways (one such passage between buildings on the way to school is barely wider than my handlebars). But it’s FUN. And kinda feels like a videogame. No one gains much speed in the tangled maze of flat streets full of pedestrians and slow-moving cars, so it’s safe if not much faster than walking. However! We live just outside the centro where there are 2-way green paths between the sidewalk and the street, so we never have to bike next to cars. My route to work is entirely on bike paths and very picturesque. Chloe is gaining confidence as a cyclist and Evan is already biking all over the place, getting himself to basketball practice. If only it weren’t for all the rain we’re having we’d bike every day.

In the Plaza de España, about a 7 minute bikeride from our house.

3. Sense of time is so different here, everything is later and slower. Beginning with the fact that we’re in the wrong time zone (apparently Franco wanted to align with Nazi Germany so that’s a rather horrifying reason for why it’s never even a little bit light before 8am). Even getting up at 7am feels like the middle of the night. So mornings naturally start late: school starts at 9, and no one gets to my office before 10. Lunch is around 2pm and no one I’ve ever met actually takes a nap, though we have a comfy futon in the office just in case. Everyone leaves the office around 7pm and dinner is light and late. When it’s good weather, families are out walking or in the parks with strollers and dogs, sitting in plazas, having lunch that drags into coffee that becomes ice cream and endless playtime for kids. It feels so luxurious—this is the aspect of Spain that always felt like cheating to me—like, is this OK?! (I’m still stuck on American habits like working through lunch and dedicating way too much time to “being productive” but at least I’m self-aware about it).

4. There are a couple of Spanish words/phrases that are so ubiquitous and have really sweet connotations that feel core to this culture: 1) Perfecto! A few days after arriving, I was suddenly put on a call with the private health insurance company to give them a bunch of our personal details. I was in no way linguistically prepared for this call and had to struggle my way through as best I could. We’re talking a REAL struggle. But the guy kept saying “perfecto” which truly gave me more confidence, and I realize that people say it constantly, and I find it super encouraging. 2) Hasta luego! OK, everyone knows this one, but it hit me early on that STRANGERS will say this to you all the time, aka people you’re unlikely to ever see again. It feels like a more profound message, like “we’re all in this together.” 3) Vosotros: I definitely skipped this verb form in all my Spanish classes and now I use it daily. It’s the informal way to address “you all” and is super common in Spain. I almost never hear “usted” and have now dropped it from my vocabulary, addressing my elderly neighbors as “tú” and hoping for the best.

5. There’s a very pro-environment vibe here. Public transportation is easy, safe, convenient (though it’s such a small city we barely need it). All our garbage goes into giant bins on the street. They’re labeled for cardboard/paper, plastic, glass, etc. And the one for actual trash is labeled “los restos,” as in “the rest,” kind of flipping the script on how we think about sorting, aka the only thing that goes in the landfill is whatever can’t be recycled. Trash bags are small and manageable because you take them out daily. And every supermarket cashier will ask you if you need a bag because they’re going to charge you for it.

6. The holidays were so sweet! I already shared photos of the lights. We attended the cabalgata of the Reyes Magos (the 3 kings parade) and it lived up to the hype. So much joy and excitement and the kids had a blast and got a ton of candy, plus gifts in their shoes the next morning.

Chloe and I finding our watching spots before the parade (Evan was nearby w/ friends)

6. Tapas. I’m not an expert but I can tell you that every restaurant has its own spin on the classics like patatas bravas. I’m going to experiment more so we have recs for visitors! We found a little restaurant in our hood that has something for all of us, and we were thrilled to find it. At home, I can now make padron peppers (w/ olive oil and salt) and also garbanzos y espinacas. And we use more olive oil than butter now because it’s so good and so cheap. But I buy our tortillas españolas (a type of potato/egg omelette) at Mercadona because they’re soooo good.

7. Coffee with parent friends. I don’t know how I got so lucky but I pretty often get cafe con leche and pan con tomate after the school dropoff with mom (and dad) friends and it’s amazing for my language skills and new friendships. The school families have been super welcoming.

8. Almost everything is cheaper. Jorge showed me this place near our office that will give you a yummy glass of wine and 4 tapas for 3 euros. WTH!

PS they had the door WIDE open which is why we have our coats on. I think they were doing their best to make it seem like outdoor seating, which they don’t have 🙂

People here are so kind. Evan recently wiped out on his bike and a stranger walked him home! But they will never smile at you on the street. That would be weird if you don’t know each other 🙂

I know things are rough in the US, and I’m thinking about you all the time.

Hope your New Year is off to a good start and that your plans include a visit to Europe. Sending love!

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Wildly overdue updates

I had to remember how to log into this blog to write a post—and, when I did, I saw that I only ever did “one week in.” And we’ve now been here 2.5 months!

WTH. I’m a writer. I thought I’d be capturing hilarious moments, poignant insights, real-time windows into the day-to-day of how an American mom and two kids adjust to life in Spain.

And, while the transition has truly gone as well as we ever could have dreamed, I underestimated the mental load of carrying this for my kids—and ended up with zero bandwidth to even think about what to write here, much less getting outside of my own experience to imagine what you’d enjoy hearing about…

So I guess this is surprise #1 about this experience: over and above the million-and-one actual tasks of relocating a family to a foreign country, the energy it takes to re-figure out how to get your daily needs met in a brand-new location, country, language… the energy output is high.

But in a good way!

Anyway, let me catch you up.

For the first three weeks we were in this apartment, we shared one towel.

Evan had brought a Warriors towel for sentimental reasons and SURE, YES I could have run out and bought cheap towels at the chino or made another expensive trip to El Corte Inglés or even ordered some on amazon and then searched out the amazon locker where it would be delivered (if it even fit)…but everything I was doing was even more pressing, like: submitting paperwork for my visa application, setting up our utilities in my name, getting school supplies (which required 3-4 trips to different papelerias), setting up a kitchen from scratch (including one big trip to Costco and many walking trips to local markets), and feeding a family of three with three different approaches to food in a new country where we don’t know yet what we like.

Anyway, the day I took a bus to Ikea and filled a taxi with home products was a great day. A day in which we multiplied our towel inventory.

In other major headlines: the kids started school!

  • Chloe leveled up to 3rd grade, based on how they do the age cutoffs here (which is by calendar year, so anyone born in 2017 is in 3rd grade, so simple!). We wondered if this mattered, and I was pretty sure it wouldn’t as long as she was with kids her age (I was right- she’s rocking it). Evan was put in 6th grade, as expected.
  • On the first day, they opened the big castle door of the school (in the middle of the most touristy area of Sevilla, right around the cathedral), and from the big crowds of families emerged kids parading into the school with live music playing. I will never forget this moment as my kids walked into a school where I’d met or talked to no one. My friend and colleague Elena had met with the school back in June. I did manage to follow my kids in (which is frowned upon) to at least connect with each of their teachers to say, “Hablan inglés! Están aprediendo español!” and they smiled, and then I was kicked out. Surreal. I can’t believe how brave my kids were to walk in there. I’ll be thinking about this forever.
  • I have a photo of the schoolyard with the kids lining up by class that I took right before leaving (see below). Chloe is looking a little lost, and Evan has been approached by girls trying to figure out who he was, where he was from, etc. The girls right away connected with a boy who was born n Minnesota and lived there until he was 6. He became Evan’s instant social connector, and all-day translator. His social transition was immediate and Evan (to this day) has all those kids playing basketball every recess (my impression is that they weren’t playing as much before he arrived).
  • Chloe doesn’t have any kids in her class who speak English (though everyone here speaks at least a little), but her teacher does. After the first few weeks, she asked me to ask the teacher to have the kids speak to her in Spanish, not English, which was such a great impulse. Now, she has friends and is rehearsing to do a K-Pop Demon Hunters dance number and they’re all patiently teaching her words using a lot of body language. We had a friend over and I overheard her speaking Spanish in complete sentences with verbs correctly conjugated (albeit all in the present tense, which is the right place to start).
  • The mom of the Minnesotan boy has been my gateway to the school parents and an incredibly helpful perspective on the massively overwhelming parent group chats (by classroom), which blow up my phone all day every day (yes, they’re muted now). Between the Spanish texting slang and me generally not knowing how things work here, I truly can’t keep up. My mom friend tells me when there’s something I need to do (we were co-judges for the costume contest at the Halloween party, for example—I bought medals). She also invites me along on impromptu post-dropoff coffees where I actually get to chat in Spanish with new friends–sometimes with success, sometimes really frustrated about all the nuance and specificity (and correctness) that’s lost. But I feel my brain stretching and I love learning languages, so I love being invited and going through the pain and joy of learning.

And this is the point in writing this post where I got pulled away for many hours.

A friend of a (US) friend dropped by with some Spanish textbooks for me, we had coffee, and as that was wrapping up I got a call from Chloe’s teacher saying “Evan se cayó. Puedes venir por el?” (Evan fell. Can you come get him?)

Instantly panicked, my communication skills went out the window and I thrust the phone at Luís, who calmly took it and said, “Díme,” and then explained to me that Evan had fallen and hurt his ankle though he was basically OK. I think he chuckled, which was reassuring.

Within a few minutes, he’d delivered me to the school on the back of his scooter–and I burst in to find Evan calmly sitting in the office with his foot up on a chair with an ice pack (he came down on it wrong while playing basketball).

I was surrounded by concerned adults, and there’s something about everyone trying to use their (limited) English with me that makes my Spanish become nonexistent. It’s like I can’t speak any language.

Then Evan’s teacher appeared, and she’s also the French teacher, so I speak French with her (much easier than Spanish for me), but every time I started in French, Spanish took over, down to the level of individual words, until I exclaimed in English, “Ohmigod, my brain cannot pick a language!!!” I let her finish telling me about a permission form in Chloe’s backpack (in Spanish LOL).

We got his ankle X-rayed and our first medical experience was a goddamn delight. No waiting. Everyone spoke English. Nicest people. No fracture, just a sprain.

Then Luis came back with two movers and a heavy dining room table for us to borrow for as long as we’re living here. So generous!

Anyway, mama’s tired. Tiredtiredtired. I try to catch up by sleeping and watching Gilmore Girls (which for some reason is the perfect way to decompress right now).

Shoot, I didn’t talk about Halloween. Or work. Or my first visitors! I’ll write more soon (at least sooner than 2.5 months).

Meanwhile, here’s a bunch of photos!

PS While I’m distracted and busy here, I haven’t stopped thinking and worrying about what’s going on in the US. I’m just as plugged into US news as I ever was, doomscrolling a ton. My old neighborhood outside Chicago is crawling with ICE agents, as people are getting plucked out of daycares, landscaping jobs, and school drop-offs. Friends are going out with whistles, protesting in Broadview, waiting at bus stops with helicopters and drones flying overhead. I’m so proud of how the city is fighting back to protect neighbors. May Tuesday’s results be a sign of what’s to come. xo