Never Retire: Chicken Soup For The Soul In Spain
A day buying ingredients for our first real dinner home in Valencia
A couple of thoughts envelope today’s installment, which combines the quantitative and qualitative elements of the experience we had today buying most of the ingredients we need to make chicken soup at the Russafa neighborhood market in Valencia.
Ahead of moving abroad, it can be easy to become obsessed with doing things—everything—the way, in this case, Spaniards (apparently) do it. Particularly eating. While we’ll definitely eat differently—in many, if not most ways—it seems a bit strange to attempt to carbon copy some ideal that I don’t think Spaniards even keep a calendar on. Life—which includes eating—just happens here.
As we walked around the market searching for our ingredients, I experienced a mix of amplified excitement and confusion that made me feel like I drank one too many cups of coffee. While I don’t expect my joy and zest for this lifestyle to ever fade, I do think it will morph into a calmer and more confident and purposeful flow. Today’s experience was one of many that will help advance the settling-in process in our new home.
More on both of those things—including this somewhat refreshing cluelessness I feel during most moments I spend out in public—in a minute.
In the shell of a slightly premature nut, I have to say that the locals here have been nothing but nice. In some cases, very nice. And—to them—it must be obvious that we’re not from here. I feel absolutely zero tension in the streets reflecting the media-driven notion that immigrants, expats, digital nomads and other flavors of alleged assholes are killing the character and crushing Spanish livelihoods one-by-one.
Bottom line—lots of people who live in Spain aren’t from Spain. This is nothing new. A majority of these people just so happen to also speak Spanish, but in a way that indicates their—typically—South American origin.
Again, slightly premature. I hope to have formed better-informed observations and opinions after more interactions and experiences, such as trying to rent an apartment, conducting administrative tasks and being part of solicited and unsolicited conversations.
Speaking of solicitations—the aforementioned lifetime subscription beats even the prices on beer, coffee and produce in Spain. Support with $100, which works out to just $5 a month, and you’re set for life. Of course, you can pay whatever you like for a founding membership or opt for a monthly or annual subscription. Either way, I appreciate it.