Here in Spain vs. the U.S. without us; or, The Rain in Spain is Mainly in Our Basement

DGF graduation, social distance style

I've lost count of how many years I've taught. This year was somewhere between 25 and 3o. It's been the most anticlimactic ending of any school year ever. 

Students I've known 3 years now are leaving Spain, seniors have graduated, and no hugs to go around. I haven't seen most of "my kids" since March. Spring 2020 has been rough. 

And it's not just been work. The weather hasn't always been great. 

A couple of months back, we got a rain storm. In the middle of the storm, our lights flickered several times. Unknownst to us, the circuit breaker for the sump pump, which drains water under the house, flipped. 

Our garage is under the house, and there is a steep driveway (at least 45 degrees) going to it. When the sump pump malfunctioned, lots of rain gathered at our garage door. Instead of draining, it went under the garage door---and into our basement. . . the basement that was full of furniture, electronics, a full book case, and so forth and so on. Of course this happened around 2 am, instead of the middle of the day when everyone is awake. 

In all, we had 2+ feet of water rush into the house in less than the five minutes it took to wade upstairs and flip the breaker. We lost most of our furniture, several things from the garage, and thankfully nobody was hurt. 

This would have been okay, except it's the middle of a GLOBAL PANDEMIC, as we all know.  By this point in the pandemic, the US has passed Spain in the number of COVID 19 cases. But unlike the US, Spain is still cautious, so several weeks later, we are just now able to travel to furniture stores to find suitable replacements for what we lost. Many furniture stores are still not delivering right now. 

We didn't lose anything sentimental or worth anything (Rodney the squirrel is safe), but we basically lost a floor of the house, which is a big deal when you have three people online for several hours a day and trying to keep a distance (teacher, 8th grader, college senior). Antediluvian life was so much simpler; not invading each other's spaces has been a little more challenging, especially since what we can salvage has been moved to the 2 remaining floors of the house. 

Meanwhile, life goes on. 

The new normal: Getting my hair did, while wearing a mask

In addition to our flood excitement, online learning is finally over. The beaches are open with social distancing. Figure out whatever that means. We take things much more seriously here in Spain, so people wear masks in public. All businesses require masks to enter. You need gloves in grocery stores, which isn't that much of a stretch, since you already always had to wear gloves while picking out produce. 

Summer plans are on hold. I deferred my trip back last summer (perk of my job---free trip back for everyone every 2 years) because we had family and friends visiting here, and could only visit the US for 2 weeks. We figured we would be back in 2020 for at least a month to make up for it. 

Well. . . 202o is here and no possibility of returning home. Even if we could get flights (and right now, we can't), I would have to quarantine for 14 days on both ends of the trip, and then what? Maybe a week of vacation? Not to mention bringing germs acquired while traveling back home to family. I love my family, so much that I don't want to get anyone sick with whatever I pick up on the way to visit them. 

It's been difficult for me because I really miss my family and really, really want to visit home. It's been a long time since I've been back (one week for Thanksgiving 2018) and even longer for my kids and husband (summer 2017). 

As things start to reopen, we are cautiously and optimistically shopping, eating out, enjoying life here. 

And  I'm not going to lie; watching to news makes me feel like I've been gone from the U.S. forever. 

It's been 8 years since we've lived in Texas. Watching videos of police brutality, riots, protests, seeing people I used to respect spouting racist rhetoric, seeing people I thought were wallflowers step out and call out said racists, watching the country seemingly fall apart with little to no leadership. . . I feel more separated from the U.S. than ever. 

It's home, the U.S., and I will always love it, but I sort of feel like we are on a trial separation heading for divorce. 

Living abroad is difficult when you don't get news during real-time. You have to depend on second-hand accounts of everything. Mainstream news in the U.S. is, well, a little whack. Social media is even worse. 

There are only so many times a day I can say, "Well bless his/her heart!" before I start to feel like a significant percentage of people I know are, well, a little touched in the head, as my dear Granny used to say. 

Less tourists, less crowds

I love Spain but it isn't home. But the U.S doesn't feel like home for many of us abroad right now. 

Many of my friends feel like I do: sometimes you are just relieved you can't go back to that mess. 

It doesn't mean I don't miss friends and family, the food, the music, the culture. And there are political, social, and health issues here, as well. I'm not in utopia by any means. 

I will say this: I'm in shock over the numbers of COVID 19 deaths in the US and the cavalier attitudes of many people I used to really respect. Wear the damn mask. It's not all about you. 

I'm frightened more than ever for my friends and family raising African American children, especially sons. You are in my heart. You are teaching them well; I hope others can see the good in them, too.

I'm watching friends live in communities all over the US with riots. I don't think destroying community property is the answer, so what else is there to offer? "Thoughts and prayers" just isn't getting it. 

I'm reading comments of former students, family members, and long time friends on social media who are ready for a change. It's happening, and it's painful, but I am hopeful that all this pain will end with a strong, better place for everyone. 

Most of all, it's hard to be here when, despite the craziness, I want to be there, standing with those very people. 

to read about our adventures in Cuba (Oct 2012-June 2017), click here