Everyday Life in Spain

Seven weeks ago today, I was boarding a plane to Madrid (via Miami). Time really has been flying by on me - I feel like I've hardly done anything other than work, sleep, and watch TV (in Spanish, of course). It's been amazing to visit so many ancient ruins, beautiful churches, and lovely parks. But I think now is a good time for me to share a list I've been compiling since day one: the biggest differences I've noticed between small-town-Spain and big-city-Texas.

Now, I wasn't expecting any kind of culture shock on moving here. For one thing, I love love love European culture and history, what I know of it from books and classes and articles, so I think I came pretty well informed (plus I took a class in college just on Cultural Diversity). More importantly, I spent 6 weeks living in Peru. This was useful not just because of the shared language and history between the two countries, but also because I got used to doing things in a different way.

So I'll start with the most obvious differences between Spain and the U.S.

Education. I work at a secondary school, which covers 6 years of schooling, the American equivalent of 7th-12th grades. Classes start at 8:15 in the morning and end at 2:15, with two recess periods - the first is 20 minutes long and the second is 25. Each class lasts for 50 minutes and they have 5 minutes in between classes. There's no designated lunchtime or cafeteria, so most kids bring snacks and sandwiches from home. The older students are allowed to leave the school during their breaks, and the English teachers always go get a cup of cafe con leche at a nearby cafe. (I have a longer post coming about more school-related things I've noticed.)

Food! Always a good topic. I can't imagine anyone comes to Spain not knowing about tapas and super late dinnertimes. I've really just reverted back to my Peru eating schedule - a small breakfast (hot tea and bread), a large lunch, and then a small dinner (bread again!). This works better with my private class schedule; I eat lunch when I get home from morning classes, have a nice siesta, and then have dinner after my private classes.

I'm having tapas this weekend! It's mushroom season in Soria, apparently.

Finally, walking. Walking to school. Walking to the store. Walking to classes. I can literally count on my fingers the number of times I've taken a car or bus somewhere since arriving in Soria. For me, this is the most wonderful thing about living in Spain. As much as I love driving, it is so nice to not have to drive to get somewhere. Also, a lot more healthy.

There have definitely been some surprises, however. These are the things that have most struck me as being "foreign."

People smoke. People smoke in doorways, they smoke walking down the street. I pass by a smoker probably every day. I don't like to begrudge anyone this habit, dangerous as it is, but I cannot stand smelling cigarette smoke. (Perhaps this might considered obvious as well, but people said the same thing about Peru and I rarely had to walk through or behind a cloud of smoke while I was there.)

Also, despite all the walking around, people don't smile at anyone on the street unless they already know them. People don't even smile when someone lets them pass in front of them. This is so strange coming from Texas, where you learn to wave/smile at other drivers when they let you go through an intersection first or if you walk through a crosswalk in front of them.

People walking around the Plaza Mayor.

I once had to go to 3 grocery stores to buy soap. Just regular old liquid hand soap. It was mind-boggling that both of the nearest groceries would be completely sold-out of something like soap.

Speaking of grocery stores: milk here comes from a shelf. Not a refrigerated shelf. A shelf, like next to the cookies and bread. It just sits there. And yes, of course it's been treated and it's perfectly safe to drink, but...I cannot get over the fact that it has been sitting at room temperature for who knows how long. So I walk to a supermarket all the way across town to get my refrigerated milk.

The milk aisle at the supermarket looks pretty much like this.

Instead of no dryer, which I was expecting, I get no oven. You would think this was a good trade, but the dryer takes forever to actually get things dry (I've used it once when I washed my PJs because there is no way I'm going to bed with less than 4 layers on). I'm perfectly happy to use my drying rack and clothespins instead, but recently I've been wishing for all the things I can't bake - banana bread, chocolate pecan pie, etc.

Continuing on the apartment theme, I'm renting my apartment from the owner rather than an actual apartment complex. I don't think apartment complexes even exist here. Everyone just puts up a notice if they've got a room to rent, online or at the university or on a telephone pole. A lot of people don't even sign a lease. I did, but my landlord repeated over and over again that it was a private contract and he'd have to pay a lot of extra taxes if I tried to use it for something public.

Oh, and sofa covers. While we did have a slipcover on our living room couch for a while, they aren't super common at home. Here, they are everywhere. Everywhere. I don't think I've seen a single apartment without sofa covers, since the majority of places are furnished by the owners.

My least favorite difference? The infernal front doors with their center handles. I've gotten the hang of them, but at the beginning I could not figure these things out. The handle is just a knob in the center, so when the door shuts, it's not going to open without a key. You turn the key one way - generally to the left - to unlock the door and then push it open. BUT, if you had unwittingly turned it right to unlock it, you actually threw the deadbolt and need to give it another turn or two to the left before it will open.

It looks nice, but you'd better know which way to turn the key.

I stood outside my hotel room for about 20 minutes on my second day in town because I could not for the life of me unlock the door. Luckily, I had added the hotel's wifi to my phone and, a few Google searches later, understood enough about the locks to get into my room.