Seguimos Amando

I bought another skirt from the cult known as LuLaRoe, the diabolical Latter-Day-Saints company that takes all my money on the regular. This skirt is purple, and dotted with images of parachutes, drifting from the clouds to the earth. I bought it to support a friend’s business, to look cute, and because I kinda need … More Seguimos Amando

Pasos

In an abrupt leap from eighteen years of prior behavior, my husband signed himself up for Sevillanas classes. Sevillanas are the traditional dances done at ferias here in Southern Spain, often referred to as “flamenco dancing.” They involve grace and drama and stylized  footwork. Basically, my worst nightmare. I also signed up for classes, because … More Pasos

Coaxing to Life

Where have I been? Not at this keyboard. Not dancing Sevillanas or slicing jamon. I’ve been doing what people do when they live somewhere. Drinking coffee, buying leggings, meeting with teachers, falling off boxes, loving imperfectly, slicing open sea urchins, and trying to drink more water and spend less time on my phone. I miss … More Coaxing to Life

Asstastic

If there is a constant to my time in Spain, it would be the presence of donkeys. It’s so much a stereotype that it’s laughable, but there it is. The lowly burro is as much a part of Andalusia as the green and white,  the Cruzcampo, and the siesta. As I write this, one is … More Asstastic

Broken Pieces

When they do parent meetings in Spanish school, it is common to discuss the performance of various children aloud, vocally comparing the strengths and weaknesses of the students. For example, a teacher recently announced, “Juan is outstanding with mental calculation, but he is a terrible writer.” Other children (all names changed for protection, of course) … More Broken Pieces

El Gitano

We are many things here in Southern Spain, but politically correct is not one of them. The bazaar markets commonly run by people of Asian heritage are referred to as “The Chinos.”  Likewise, the weekly traveling market which camps out by my house each Monday could be called many things, but it is referred to … More El Gitano

Vecino

My neighbor’s walls explode with begonias. He stacks them up his walls in simple plastic pots–white, pink, purple. Each morning, he tends them, trimming a bit and watering them. On his second level, under a green-cloth shade, his grapes, pregnant and ponderous grow in comfortable vines. I expect he will come over with an offering … More Vecino

Black Pearls

Living here, I’ve attempted to wear earrings more. A small thing, but nevertheless an unnatural one since I have an aversion to accessories. I didn’t get my ears pierced until I was seventeen, and to this day, wearing a necklace makes me feel twitchy and choke-tastic. Mom thinks it all stems from the womb. I’ve … More Black Pearls