Even though I was born and raised in the United States, I can’t say that I ever felt very American when I lived there. Occasionally, I would feel a surge of American pride – like during the Olympics or on the anniversary of September 11th – but otherwise I strongly identified with being Latina. Spanish … Continue reading
When you move to another country with different cultural norms, you are bound to commit a few faux pas. After living in Barcelona for nearly two years, I thought I had gotten most of mine out of the way. Alas, I was sadly mistaken. Last weekend, my friend and I decided to go to Quilombo to … Continue reading
I miss my previous neighbors. They were a friendly, quiet, young, married, couple from Valencia. After over a year of living across the hall from each other, we had finally become friends. I had even started a Spanish-English intercambio with the wife in an attempt to perfect my castellano (to understand why I needed this intercambio … Continue reading
We have a grapadora problem in the office. There is a limited supply and they always seem to disappear or jam. People with staplers get a little possessive over them – or maybe its just me and my only child syndrome. One day, I tried making a Milton grapadora roja joke at work, but it fell completely flat … Continue reading
One day during lunch, my coworkers and I were discussing religion. Yes, a taboo topic amongst co-workers in America, but this is Spain – with the exception of perhaps Franco – nothing is really off limits. Specifically, we were talking about the conservative nature of the Muslim religion. My co-worker (of the XY variety) then … Continue reading
While my Spanish has improved a thousand fold since my arrival, this past weekend I had a brief encounter which reminded me that every day is still a school day. My friend and I were about to leave the club when this guy asked me to dance. It was 5am, my feet hurt, and I … Continue reading
Adela - New York - Barcelona 