Why I Love Spain

I wrote this blog for my school. I received positive remarks from my students, so I thought I'd share.

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This is my second year living in Spain and I'm considering staying another year. When people hear this, both Spaniards and others ask me the same question: 'Why?'

Why do I love Spain? I have given many answers. I've said how I love Spanish food, including paella, croquetas and salmorejo. I really like eating tapas. Going out with friends and eating different foods, sitting out on a terrace and people watching... there's something very relaxing about it, especially in the warming days of Andalusia.

Perhaps it's its history. From Moors conquering Spain, to Napoleon and Franco, to the present Spain, this country has a complex past. Traveling through the Iberian Peninsula also reflects this complicated history, from Cadiz to Merida to the region of Asturias (to only name a few). All of them are beautiful cities with a lot of ancient stories to tell.

Or maybe it's as simple as the vacations. In Spain, you get minimally 1 month of vacation. In the United States, in average, you start with 0 hours of vacation and you build 1.5 hours every 2 weeks. It takes a long time to build up a good vacation. But perhaps their attitudes towards their vacation reflects something more. Something that is found deep withing the Spanish culture. It's an attitude. A belief. It is hard to pin down but the closest I've come to describe it is: 'They work to live, not live to work.'

All of the above are good reasons and definitely play a factor in my liking of Spain. But the real and ultimate reason why I love Spain is its people. I can't really describe why they are so great. I can say they are fun, friendly, open, caring, fiery people. They seem to really appreciate life. I think that's why I keep staying here. Because I love the Spanish way of life, the people, and its culture. I learn from them and I feel that in Spain, I truly enjoy my life to the fullest.

A Nose by any Other Name...

A few weekends ago, I went to Granada with my roommate to visit a friend. We hit the bars that night and much later, decided to get a kabob. As we walked in, a man sitting on a bar stool and eating a gyro looked at my friend quite intensely. He started talking to us about how pretty her nose was (which was cute, small and perky). He kept staring at it and just couldn't keep his eyes off it. He even tried to touch it! Of course, this freaked my friend out and she quickly left the establishment.

I, on the other hand, was determined to get my gyro no matter what weirdo was around, so I stayed in line. Plus, he wasn't harassing my nose, was he? (Not cute enough for you, huh? Bastard. ;-) ) However, I had the honor of talking to his friends who somehow found out about my Colombian heritage and asked me about cocaine and if Colombians lived in trees. (Great catches, these boys.) Then, two other girls walked in and the guy stared at their faces too. He commented on how these girls must have had nose jobs. I looked at their noses and they too were small, cute and perky. The girls, understandably, were weirded out and said no, that they were natural and ignored him.

As I grabbed my gyro, I admit I was fascinated. I've never met anyone who was so mesmerized by noses. He didn't just stare and talk about them. He tried to feel them too! Even when it was obvious the girls didn't want to be touched. Very strange behavior.

Then it hit me. This guy had a nose fetish! Isn't that crazy? I've never met anyone with a nose fetish before. Feet? Yes. Belly buttons? Sure. But noses? Never! It was quite exciting.

And you know what the irony was about this whole scene? He had a HUGE nose! HA!

Ah well. To each his own! :-)