Best Friends

Aug29

Today I was sitting around thinking about my good friend in Madrid, let’s call her Lana (not her real name). For years, when I lived in Madrid, we were inseparable.

Lana and I are still in touch. But it’s not the same anymore.

When I lived in Madrid and she was single, she was a real rebel. Heavy metallist, rebellious, anti-conventionality. It’s ironic that now she follows all the conventions and all the things that people expect of her.

We met in the choir. Both of us sang in a choir. We hit it off right away and soon became fast friends.

We were both wild and rebellious, both of us a lot in character like George of the Famous Five, except we had – and still continue to proudly sport – long hair. The difference between us is that whereas I’m quite shy and diffident around people, especially people I don’t know well, Lana is very talkative.

I thought about all the things we’d done together, so many fun experiences we’d shared. Going home one night after a night out clubbing, at 3 in the morning, we decided to start howling like a bunch of cats in heat, waking up the neighbours.

Going to visit an apiary, that is, a bee farm, with a friend of hers. On a hiking trip to observe vultures. Like me, at that time she was very much into hiking, and we often went on hikes together.

Climbing into a water ride at the amusement park one hot summer day, two mischievous little urchins in the same boat with us thought it would be fun to throw water at us. We threw water back, and soon it was all we were doing the whole ride long. We went on that ride I think it was about eleven times with those same two mischievous urchins and had a blast.

Another time we went to a field that was off limits. One of those private properties where trespassing is forbidden. There was a very high fence around it to prevent people from jumping in. We wanted to play in that field. Not because we especially wanted to play in a field – although we did, and it was a very large field – but mainly because it WAS forbidden. On that occasion we went with our friend, the boy I would one day marry haha.

We were absolutely DETERMINED to get into that field come hell or high water. My boyfriend gave us a boost up onto the top of the wire fence. We reached down and pulled him up. So far, excellent.

The problem came when we went to jump down. The shirt I was wearing got snagged on the fence, ripping off half the hem when I jumped down. Unphased, we continued into the field and carried on playing. I don’t remember what we were playing now. Some kind of ball game, maybe?

When we tired of playing and it was time to climb out, this time it was Lana who got snagged on the sharp, poking-out wires of the fence. In her case, it was her jeans. The wire poked a hole in her jeans. However, jeans are sturdier than shirts, and neither was she able to rip herself off the fence, nor could she disengage herself or unhook her jeans from the wire.

She couldn’t simply jump or pull herself down, because then the wire would have gouged into her skin. In the end, we don’t know what she did, but she had to extricate herself from the wire all by herself because we couldn’t get back up again.

I remember one hiking trip in particular. We planned to go with a good friend of hers, Elena. In those days Lana had the bad habit of always arriving very, very late. This was in those times before mobile phones.

Anyways, we were going to meet up at Chamartin train station. Elena arrived, and we started spinning about the station in search of Lana. Aware of her tendency to arrive late, we didn’t give up when she still hadn’t shown her face after we’d been combing the station for a long time.

At last, we both saw her get off the escalators looking like a scarecrow, with wild eyes and swivelling her head in all directions. It was so late, she was convinced that Elena and I for sure must have taken off without her. Of course, being loyal friends, we hadn’t. We grabbed a train to some mountains north of Madrid, whose name I’ve now forgotten. But they are well-known and people often go hiking there. Gredos, I think.

There were a lot of people on the same trail we were on. We walked to the end of the trail, where lots of people had set things up and were playing, eating and just generally having a good time. I believe there was a lake there as well. All of a sudden it started to rain – one of those unexpected, unpredictable mountain storms. All the people started taking off down the trail.

It was quite a long trail. We were perhaps halfway down the trail, when Lana suddenly realized that she had forgotten something in the clearing where we had been playing. We had to trek all the way back, in the rain, to retrieve the lost object. This time when we turned around to go back, the mountain was completely deserted.

After what seemed a veritable odyssey, we finally straggled back into town. We were starving. We had packed a picnic and we wanted to eat. But of course, there was no way we could have a picnic in the rain. We didn’t know where to go.

At that point, we noticed a building that was in construction. It was halfway built. It had floors and stairways, sustaining columns. And most importantly, it had a roof!! That was all that mattered to us! Within seconds, we were rushing up the stairs to the second floor (for greater privacy haha). We plunked down onto the floor, relieved to finally find shelter from the cold rain after what must have been hours, and enjoyed our picnic with numb, blue fingers. It was just a silly thing, perhaps, but I remember we didn’t stop joking and laughing all the way.

With Lana I travelled to Granada, Cuenca, the Alpujarra, Morocco. We had a blast in Morocco. At that time, her family lived in the compound of the Spanish consulate in Tangiers, and I spent several days there. We also took the train to Larache.

We wanted to go to the beach in Larache. But unlike in Europe, it’s impossible to go to the beach in Morocco and even less so if you are two young girls. In Morocco, just the fact that you have long hair and wear a skirt, and especially if you are unaccompanied by adult males (although the presence of adult males is hardly a deterrent), is enough to draw in all the Moroccan men as if you were, well, some sort of rare prize or something.

So we had to defer on our beach plans. But even so, we had a great time together in Morocco. I remember going to the souk with Lana’s mother, and eating pistachio ice-cream. Mmmhh.

Today Lana is married, with two kids, like me (except I’m not married, of course!), and we live our separate lives in cities more than 500 km apart. We still chat via WhatsApp. She’s no longer a rebel, commutes two hours a day to get to work, gives her kids communions and attends all her and her hubby’s family events: baptisms, weddings, engagement parties……

She no longer goes out hiking or for walks in the country. They very rarely even go on holiday. She never travels, except to the family home on the beach.

I wish she lived here in Malaga, near me.

If you enjoyed this post (I really hope you do!), maybe you will also like:

The Meaning of a Friendship

Childhood Friends

How Much Do YOU Value Your Friends?

Hot Muggy September Nights

Anti-Vaccinations: Dying To Be Natural

Jun8

(This is the same post I put up earlier, yesterday. But I made a few changes, and I changed the title, so now it goes up as a new post. But if you’ve already read yesterday’s post, you don’t need to read this one since it’s almost the same.)

I wanted to put up another travel post this week, but I felt like this subject was more pressing. After all, the sights and monuments will still be there a week from now haha!

Lately there’s been a lot of controversy in Spain about vaccinations, due to an outbreak of diphtheria in a child whose parents had decided not to vaccinate him.

Many people believe that vaccines are dangerous or have lots of terrible side effects, like autism, because they think there are toxins in vaccinations such as mercury.

Well, if you DON’T get your child vaccinated, then what are the chances that he will catch a terrible, potentially fatal infectious disease like diphtheria, measles or polio? Compare that to his chances of getting autism from a vaccination.

The Children’s Cemetery, English Cemetery, Malaga, filled with the tombs of children killed by infectious diseases in the 1800’s.

Which do you think is higher? His probabilities of becoming seriously ill from an infectious disease that is highly contagious but easily preventable by vaccines, or his probabilities of “picking up” autism from a vaccine?

To top it off, it’s now been shown that the link between vaccines and autism was, in addition, nothing but a hoax and a lie. (You can read more about this news here: Autism and Childhood Vaccinations.)

Vaccine-Related Autism Was a Hoax

So in addition to NOT protecting their children from dangerous illnesses, turns out parents who oppose vaccinations have even NOT been saving their children from autism, either. Their children were never in danger of “picking up” autism from a vaccine shot, because vaccines don’t cause autism to begin with.

And as one person I know put it: “I’d rather have a child with autism who’s alive, than a dead child who died from an easily preventable infectious illness.”

Long-term Effects of Serious Infectious Illnesses

Here is what can happen if your child gets ill from diphtheria:

(Quoted from the Mayo Clinic, link to original website here.)

Left untreated, diphtheria can lead to:

Breathing problems. Diphtheria-causing bacteria may produce a toxin. This toxin damages tissue in the immediate area of infection — usually, the nose and throat.
Heart damage. The diphtheria toxin may spread through your bloodstream and damage other tissues in your body, such as your heart muscle.
Nerve damage. The toxin can also cause nerve damage. If C. diphtheria toxin damages the nerves that help control muscles used in breathing, these muscles may become paralyzed. Respiration may then become impossible without a respirator or another device to assist with breathing.

Diphtheria is fatal in as many as 3 percent of those who get the disease.

This is what happens if you get measles, another infectious illness that is covered by current immunization campaigns:

(Once again, thank you for the information, Mayo Clinic, original link here.)

Complications of measles may include:

Ear infection. One of the most common complications of measles is a bacterial ear infection.
Bronchitis, laryngitis or croup. Measles may lead to inflammation of your voice box (larynx) or inflammation of the inner walls that line the main air passageways of your lungs (bronchial tubes).
Pneumonia. Pneumonia is a common complication of measles. People with compromised immune systems can develop an especially dangerous variety of pneumonia that is sometimes fatal.
Encephalitis. About 1 in 1,000 people with measles develops encephalitis, an inflammation of the brain that may cause vomiting, convulsions, and, rarely, coma or even death. Encephalitis can closely follow measles, or it can occur months later.
Pregnancy problems. If you’re pregnant, you need to take special care to avoid measles because the disease can cause pregnancy loss, preterm labor or low birth weight.
Low platelet count (thrombocytopenia). Measles may lead to a decrease in platelets — the type of blood cells that are essential for blood clotting.

And how about polio, another infectious illness that is easily preventable by following the regular vaccination schedule for children. As a side note, I had a teacher at school when I was a schoolgirl, she was quite young to be so ill, only 35. She suffered from chronic health problems as a result of contracting polio as a child, before vaccinations existed.

(As usual, thanks to the Mayo Clinic for the info, original article here.)

Paralytic polio can lead to temporary or permanent muscle paralysis, disability, and deformities of the hips, ankles and feet. As a result, children who survive polio may spend their lives with severe disabilities.

Well I could continue onwards, since there are a number of diseases that can be easily prevented in children by a simple vaccine shot, included in the vaccination schedule and available for free to all children, at least here in Spain and probably in most developed countries.

Infant Mortality From Infectious Diseases Before and After Vaccination Campaigns

As a parent who obviously loves your child, do you really want to go through the anguish of seeing your child seriously ill, on the brink of death, perhaps not even surviving, because YOU refused to provide him with something so easy to obtain as a simple vaccine shot?

Think about how many people, especially children, died or suffered from lifelong disabilities, as a result of contracting any of these easily preventable infectious diseases before vaccinations existed.

As an example, in the US in 1921, 15,520 children died from diptheria.

On the contrary, in the US last year, ZERO (yes read it, 0) children died from diphtheria, thanks to routine vaccination of all children.

People Who Oppose Vaccinations

Some people who oppose vaccination said to me once, “Why do I need to vaccinate my children? They’re at school and they’re perfectly healthy. Besides which, all their classmates are vaccinated, so their classmates can’t get the disease and pass it on to my kids.”

Yeah that’s right, another word for this is called riding on someone else’s coat-tails! So, you want other parents to run the “risk” of vaccinating their children so your children won’t get sick? Is that it?

Come on, gimme a break. How selfish can you get?

That’s like living in a shared home where you do no housework and never clean up after yourself, and expect the rest of your housemates to be your slaves and clean up after you!

And as for your kids being perfectly healthy today, well, that’s just the way it is with illnesses. Today your kids are bouncing with energy and life and just won’t get out of your hair, and by night-time they’re flat on their backs with a fever of 40º Celsius (that’s round 105 for those using the old-fashioned Fahrenheit thermometers).

Just be thankful for your blessings that your kids are happy and healthy right now. I know I am, every minute of every day.

But at least I know my kids won’t be dead from meningitis by nightfall. Meningitis can kill literally within hours from the time the first symptoms appear.

But I don’t have to worry about that. Because my kids are vaccinated.

Are yours?

My Hippie Friends’ Point of View About Vaccinations

Once upon a time I was a hippie (maybe there’ll be more about this particular theme one day……). Most of the hippie crowd I hung around with believed in living the “natural life”.

They didn’t hold jobs, preferring to make a few bucks (well, euros) by pawning off stuff at handicraft fairs or selling their old rags on the street. Some were squatters, since they didn’t want to enrich the pocketbooks of people they perceived as avaricious, Scrooge-like, power-hungry landlords.

Some were beggars, or spent their time spaced out on booze, hash and cocaine.

Most of them advised me not to vaccinate my baby. Because it’s “not natural”, they told me. Or because my baby could pick up autism from the vaccinations, or have an allergic reaction. Because breast milk naturally protects babies, they said.

Well, getting a vaccination is “not natural”, but illnesses ARE natural and which do you prefer? A NATURAL illness, or “artificial” protection from that illness?

And by now we have debunked the autism myth. As for the allergies, well, you’ve got as much chance of developing an allergy to vaccinations as you have of developing an allergy to anything else in the world. And you’re not going to avoid strawberries, eggs, milk, wheat, nuts, flowers and trees (pollen, you know) and cats and dogs, just because you MIGHT one day develop an allergy to all these, are you?

And yes maybe breast milk does provide some protection from infectious diseases (always supposing, of course, that the mother was vaccinated herself……). But are you going to feed your baby breast milk for the next eighteen years, until your baby grows out of the high risk age for contracting infectious illnesses?

All the same, since I was into the same hippie crap as all my friends in those days, I did consider not vaccinating my beloved son. One conversation with a good acquaintance changed all that.

Dead Babies in Africa

He travelled regularly to Africa. He told me about all the little babies that he saw dead or dying every day in these countries from polio, meningitis, diphtheria, measles.

None of these children had to die. A simple vaccine shot could have saved them all.

If you asked any of these parents if they would have preferred their child to suffer from an allergic reaction to a meningitis vaccine – easily survivable, since it is easy to counteract an allergic reaction – or what did happen, that is, their child dying from this illness, what do you think they would say?

So yes please do forgive me if I sort of tend to see “opposing vaccination” as a rather arrogant, ignorant, holier-than-thou, anti-society First World problem. I don’t think one single parent in Africa who had seen their child die from meningitis, or become permanently disabled from polio, would think twice about running as fast as their legs can carry them to the nearest vaccination station (if they’re lucky enough to even have one in their country) and vaccinating all their remaining children.

Finally, since they say a pic is worth a thousand words, a few months back we had the opportunity to visit Malaga’s English Cemetery and take photos. This cemetery was founded in the 1830’s and I was especially moved by the oh so many tombstones belonging to little children who had died in the 19^th century.

Children used to fall like flies in those days. As a mother, you knew that most, if not all, of your babies would never see their fifth birthday. And measles, meningitis, polio, diphtheria and whooping cough were the main reasons for this.

These one-year-old twin babies died within days of each other from one of the above mentioned infectious illnesses. The same goes for all the little inhabitants of the graves surrounding them. And the ones that fill up the Children’s Cemetery of Malaga’s English Cemetery.

Is that what you want?

If not, the solution is simple.

Vaccinate your children.

And let them bury YOU one day, rather than you being the one to bury THEM.

As usual, positive, non-spammy comments are ALWAYS welcome! I LURRVE to receive them!

If you enjoyed this post (I really hope you do!), maybe you will also like:

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Rant About Sexism

Jun3

I’m in a mood for ranting, I’m afraid, because as the mother of a teenage son, sometimes we quite naturally don’t see eye to eye on some things.

My son has an aunt who has live-in domestic help. So her kids don’t have to do any work around the house. My son, of course, notices that. And as is only natural, he can’t help but compare that to his own situation, where he does have to do chores around the house.

And then he gets whiny and complains and he thinks that’s not fair.

I personally am against parents not making their kids do things around the house or not making them learn to be responsible for things. I personally think that having a maid makes kids arrogant (or it can, if the parents don’t teach proper respect to their kids). And of course if parents don’t make kids learn to be responsible, they’re not all of a sudden going to become responsible of their own accord when they leave home.

In fact, I think it’s a major problem in general here in Spain, especially with boys. And I’m not saying this because I have a bone to chew with Spain or the way things are done here, nor do I mean that everyone I know is like this. These are only my own personal observations, based on people that I know here, and my own personal experiences.

I understand that there might be other people here who don’t agree with me, or who have observed different things than me. Because perhaps they move in different circles, or because of variations in the way things are done in other parts of the country.

Here in Spain because people had a hard time during the war and during Franco’s dictatorship, they want to spare their kids all the hardships and as a result, I see many parents acting too lax (compared to what I am used to) and spoiling their kids. A lot of Spanish kids never have to do any chores around the house. In Canada most kids that I knew growing up had chores.

Spanish girls still realize, when they reach a certain age, that they have to learn to do some household tasks or they will not be able to get on when they grow up, like cooking and cleaning and things like that. But most Spanish boys think that when they grow up they will get their wives to do all the household chores. So they never bother learning how to do any household chores and they don’t see the need to learn to do them.

Many Spanish kids are super irresponsible and their parents don’t know what to do with them. It’s even a major problem here, parents who feel dominated by and sometimes even scared of their own children. My best friend has a teenage son who can’t even pack his own schoolbag. His father has to pack his schoolbag for him.

Personally, I believe in making kids responsible and making them do housework. But the machismo (sexism) here is just incredible and sometimes I find it just so disgusting and intolerable.

For example, in the some circles I know they are always saying things like, a REAL woman is the perfect mother, a REAL woman runs a perfect household and has a perfectly clean and tidy house. A REAL woman is a sex bomb in bed and always leaves her husband with a grin on his face. A REAL woman works hard (unlike her husband and sons who shouldn’t have to do anything).

I just really really really don’t understand sexist attitudes in women. Then afterwards women complain that they don’t get equal and fair treatment. If they’re the first to jump up and force other women to succumb to sexist attitudes to begin with!

I find that in places where the culture is very sexist, often it’s the WOMEN who defend the sexism most fiercely. And I really don’t understand why. Don’t women WANT to have equal rights? Why do women here WANT to be forced to spend all their time cleaning and cooking? Don’t they WANT to do something else?

But apparently they DON’T want to do anything else. They don’t see anything else worth doing in life.

I know lots of women here who when they are at home, they never sit still. They are always dusting or tidying their living-rooms. When you ask them why don’t they sit down and relax and watch some TV they will tell you they can’t, that it makes them feel bad to see dust on the table or some object not perfectly aligned.

Oftentimes these women will even have husbands who are not that sexist, and their husbands will say something like, oh but you’re the most amazing housewife ever, no one keeps a more immaculate house than you but you work so hard, you’ve already worked too much, why don’t you come and sit beside me on the sofa and we’ll watch a TV show together?

And the woman will reply, I can’t, there’s still so much work to be done, the shelf is dusty and I haven’t vacuumed the closet today.

Of course my son doesn’t want to be responsible and he doesn’t want to do housework. That is normal, no one likes to work. And kids want to get away with as much as they can. So he doesn’t understand why it isn’t good for him to do no chores or why it isn’t good for him to not be responsible for anything.

I saw a movie about a Spanish woman who married an Afghan man who had been here studying in Spain. They decided to go to Afghanistan to visit his family.

When they got there, the Taliban invaded the country and forbade Afghan citizens from leaving. So they couldn’t return to Spain. The woman could, of course, but her husband couldn’t. And she refused to leave him.

They were staying with the husband’s family in a rural area. The house didn’t have a bathroom, the bathroom was a corner of the back yard. And then the woman became pregnant and she wanted to visit the doctor, but the Taliban forbade women from going to see the doctor and she had to visit the local midwife.

She wanted to see a doctor, she couldn’t imagine having a baby without receiving proper medical care. And then this is what happened.

All the women in her husband’s family started to scorn her and say things like, what is wrong with Western women? You are all so weak and useless. A REAL woman can have a baby all by herself. A REAL woman is strong enough to have a baby all by herself. A REAL woman doesn’t need a doctor because she can take care of herself.

Doctors are for men because men are weak and can’t take care of themselves. All men are little boys at heart and that is why they need a doctor, but a REAL woman is strong and doesn’t need a doctor.

Now, I don’t want you to think that I think that only supposedly “backwards” cultures, like Latin cultures or Afghanistan, are sexist. Right in Canada there are a ton of “machistic” attitudes. I have a friend there who was married to this horrid sounding guy. All he ever did was drink beer, throw all the beer cans on the floor, lie around on the sofa and expect my friend (who is female) to clean the house. Fortunately she is not with him anymore.

So guys, if you’re reading this and you’re a guy and you’re one of those (hopefully more and more rare all the time) who think that by acting “macho” you will get your gal, you can think again. You might get A gal – probably one of those women I referred to earlier who can’t relax and watch a TV show with their husband. (Or do anything with their husbands, for that matter, because the only thing they know how to do, or have any interest in doing, is clean their house!)

So, what do you think? Do you live in a sexist culture? Do your kids do housework? I’d love to receive your (positive, non-spammy) comments!

If you enjoyed this post (I really hope you do!), maybe you will also like:

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Just a Short & Silly Post

May15

Well this is just a short and rather silly post. There’s no theme to it, and not much point to it either, really.

I always wonder, when I read about people living in faraway countries, what it is that they see every day when they leave their houses and go about their daily business. What are streets like in other countries? What do the buildings look like there?

So this is a typical street in my neighbourhood. Nothing extraordinary about it. It’s not a neighbourhood that stands out for anything in particular. It’s not a place tourists come to browse around. It’s not an especially luxurious neighbourhood. Just a typical working class street in Malaga.

How does this street compare to streets in your city or town? Please do leave me a comment, I lurrve to receive (positive, non-spammy) comments!

If you enjoyed this post (I really hope you do!), maybe you will also like:

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Paleo Paleo Boom Boom Boom

May2

I just found a diet by chance that lots of people are raving about. In theory it sounds like a nice, interesting diet, that has a lot of health benefits. But in practice it’s full of foods that I hate and you can’t eat the foods that I love.

It’s called the Paleo diet and its premise is that people should eat like cavemen did because we evolved to eat what cavemen ate.

So cavemen ate mostly meat, roots and fruits and berries. And that is what is in the diet. You can eat any veggies and fruits, nuts and seeds. You can eat olive oil and butter and coconut oil. So far so good, I like all these!

But you’re supposed to fill yourself up with meat all day long. And you can’t eat cakes or pies or burritos or bread or oatmeal. I HATE meat (except maybe chicken wings).

They say that cereals and grains have lots of toxins and people were never meant to eat them. Cavemen didn’t eat them. People didn’t have flour until they started growing crops.

People who follow the paleo diet report lots of health improvements like greater flexibility and mobility, their pains are gone, if they had illnesses especially chronic ones these illnesses are much better or gone, they have no digestive ails……

The thing that surprises me the most, though, are the photos of paleo children. They all look so radiant and healthy. Vegetarian children, on the other hand, tend to look rickety.

Well I’d read that children need to eat lots of protein because they are building themselves and they build themselves with amino acids. But adults? Unless you’re a weight lifter or something……

And what about all the nitrates from eating too much meat? And what about all that uric acid that forms kidney stones? Don’t paleo eaters have those problems?

Well I dunno. I read the interviews with some of the longest lived people in the world. A 114 year old Scottish grandma said she owes her great health to never having remarried (after she was divorced or widowed, can’t remember which) at an early age, and to eating oatmeal every day of her life. And a 114 year old man in the US said he ate a banana a day all his life. On the other hand, a 114 year old Italian lady attributes her great health to never having married and eating 2 eggs every day. She also eats pasta every day because all Italians eat pasta every day. (Well all Italians that I know, anyways, so no one accuses me of stereotyping!)

A 114 year old granny here in Spain attributed her longevity to eating only foods that she loved and never listening to what scientists said you should or shouldn’t eat. Her favourite food was crispy fried bacon and she admitted to eating a plateful every day. The employees at her nursing home confirmed it. They said every day they prepared a plate of crispy fried bacon for her, which she enjoyed with relish.

(Okay, I know it sounds like they were all 114 years old. The truth is I don’t quite remember their exact ages. But they were all around 114 (maybe 113, 115……).)

Anyways, if you think about it, cavemen were all short and muscular. But after agriculture and learning to make bread, people became tall and willowy and skinny.

Also, humans making the evolutionary leap to growing crops and making flour is what has permitted all the evolutionary development that we have enjoyed since then. It’s quite clear that as long as cavemen were spending their whole lives chasing buffalo around all over the place, they could never develop anything like civilisation, the arts or written language.

Cereals and grains are the basis, as far as I’m aware, of just about every society on earth. Even if a culture doesn’t eat much wheat, they do eat SOMETHING that is a cereal or grain: millet, rice, corn or maize.

So I don’t think something that is eaten every day by people all over the world, and has been eaten by people all over the world since prehistoric times, could be that bad for you, could it? If cereals and grains were that toxic, you would think that humanity would have been extinguished long ago.

I think it’s quite clear that the paleo diet is something that could only have been invented in the United States and it will probably never become a big hit in Spain. Because BERRIES feature prominently in that diet. And guess what? Berries don’t grow in Spain!

You probably didn’t know that. And I lament it a lot. Because berries are my favourite food!

But it’s too hot for berries to grow in Spain. Only up in the north, where the weather is similar to North America or France or other northern European countries, they have berries. But in the rest of the country it’s citrus fruits and citrus fruits and more citrus fruits. And olives, of course. You can’t believe how much Spaniards LOOOVEEE their oranges and lemons!!

And strangely enough I don’t love oranges or lemons very much. My theory is that you acquire your taste for food at an early age, you’re not born with it. And you acquire a taste for the food that you eat the most at that age. So in Spain everyone eats oranges all the time, because it’s what there is. Here berries are imported (at exorbitant prices) from northern countries – and no one likes them!

Anyways, an interesting theory, that of the Paleo diet. But I really don’t think I’m very much up to it. I just can’t STAND the sensation of a fillet or thick chunk of beef. Ugh! Gives me the shivers and the creeps when I imagine chewing away on one of those.

Besides which there is nothing tastier in the whole wide world than a good chunk of freshly baked bread, soft and spongy on the inside and crispy and aromatic on the outside. Mmmhh!

What about you? Do you follow or believe in any special diet? Please don’t hesitate to leave me comments. I LURRVE to receive (positive, non-spammy) comments!

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Blood Is Thicker Than Water

Mar14

I was feeling quite sad because there are always things all over the place to remind me of what I had and don’t have anymore. Right now father’s day is coming up (here in Spain), so I am reminded all the time that I don’t really have a father anymore. The same thing when mother’s day comes around. Everywhere people seem to have so many people around them, fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins and husbands and wives.

I know we choose our lives and the people who are going to be in our lives before we’re born. And I always say, one day I’m going to have a psychic reading and ask why I chose to have no family in this lifetime.

But I also think, there are always people who are worse off. I think of Louise Hay, who had to face what I think is one of the most terrible things a person can have to face: having cancer. And she had to face it all alone. She had no family either, to help her or take care of her or support her as she fought cancer. She had to deal with her cancer all alone.

And then there’s Lazarillo de Tormes. You might not know who Lazarillo de Tormes is. He’s a fictional character, written about 5 centuries ago here in Spain. No one knows who the author is or, obviously, what the author’s life was like. But going on the premise that most novels are at least semi-autobiographical, we can assume that some of the things about Lazarillo would be true about his author too.

Lazarillo was an orphan. He had a terrible life as a child. He would be taken in by families who would abuse him and force him to work hard and beat him if he didn’t work hard. He finally “made it” by getting into petty crime and doing things like stealing. I don’t remember the ending.

They say some things you can look for if you don’t have them in your life. You can look for friends. You can look for causes, or organizations to belong to. But you can’t ACQUIRE a family, if you weren’t born with one.

Some people say, yes you can. You can get adopted into a family, or adopt one. But the fact of the matter is, not anyone can become your family and in fact, at least here in Spain, blood IS thicker than water. Here in Spain you can’t ACQUIRE a family. A family is something you are born with. And if you weren’t born with one, you will never have one. Because blood is blood and you will never share blood with anyone if you weren’t born into their family.

That’s just the way it is here. I had a best friend (we’re still really good friends, but maybe not best friends anymore because we live in different cities) and often she would wish that she could spend big occasions, like Christmas or summer holidays, with me instead of with her family. But she couldn’t. Her family wouldn’t let her, and she couldn’t be disloyal to her family.

Here in Spain, family ALWAYS comes first. And you can’t acquire a family or get adopted into a family. You just can’t. It’s just not done. No matter how close you are to someone, they might even love you more than they love their family. But you will never form a part of their family. And if they have to choose between you or their family, they will always choose their family.

I do see how blood is thicker than water. I often think it’s such an irony that to see what genes I have, I have to look at my kids, because they are the only people who share genes with me. I find it so curious how so many things that you think are just individual quirks, are actually genetically programmed.

My son has so many of the same gestures and expressions as his father. He’s never seen his father make these gestures (because he hardly ever sees his father), and they are not common gestures. So I know he didn’t pick them up by observing other people. He was just born with these gestures and tendencies, apparently they are in his genes.

And I can see how when you grow up surrounded by people who share your genes, you feel a certain affinity with them, that you don’t feel with people who are genetically different from you. Even if the people who are genetically different from you are supposed to be your parents.

When you grow up with people who share your genes, you look at them and you think, I’ve got the same expression as my mother. Or, look at that face that my father makes in X situation, I do exactly the same thing in that situation!

Have you noticed similarities with your family members that go far deeper than just a loving relationship, or interests in common? Please leave me your comments below. As usual, I LURRVE to receive (positive, non-spammy) comments!

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Canada vs. US vs. Spain

Mar8

I was just reading through expat blogs by Americans in Spain, and one of the things that most struck me, unbelievable though it might seem, was the differences between Americans and Canadians!

Now, you might find that a bit weird, considering that, you would expect, the differences between Spain and Canada should be far greater than those between the two North American countries which, when you come right down to it, still share a continent and have a common history and ancestry.

But I suppose perhaps I’ve just gotten used to the differences between Canada and Spain, since it has become quite customary to me to compare the two all the time. In fact, I’ve written another post in the past comparing life and customs in Canada vs. Spain.

The United States, on the other hand, is not a place I think about a whole lot. So it did strike me how different the United States really is from Canada.

Now, do take into account that perhaps my experiences might not be representative, and I’m sure another Canadian would probably have different views from me. I’m also not a “typical” Canadian (if there is such a thing).

I grew up in a small town in French Canada. The English language and culture that prevailed there were more British in many ways than American. So I think there are many things that I do that are more “British” than perhaps would happen with the average Canadian.

I write many, but not all, words the British way, and I use some British terms more than their American equivalent. And then there are some words that I use that are just, simply, Canadian, lol.

So I will write “realize” and “criticize”, but “favourite” and “colour”.

Now, having said that, it’s also true that that doesn’t make us “Brits” or British in any way. I don’t speak with a British accent. I’ve been told I don’t have an American accent either, however, but rather, an “unidentifiable” but fairly neutral one. Maybe, if anything, perhaps slightly “Scottish”, since there is a strong Scottish influence in Canada.

In fact once, in London, a wonderfully friendly gentleman told me he was sure I must be from Scotland, and he was flabbergasted when I told him I wasn’t. He said I had such a typical Scottish accent!

So now, these were the differences, in no particular order, that caught my attention the most.

Words

I will say torch and rubber, and I had no idea that in the States, rubber is a “bad” word hehe. But I also say pants, car trunk and running shoes (rather than trainers or tennis shoes). And in my particular part of the world, we would say patio, the same as in Spain, and métro rather than subway, tube or underground.

Place Names

I am used to places being called “Place” (as in Place Bonaventure, a place that really exists in Montreal), which is the equivalent of the Spanish plaza. It took me a long time to find out what English speaking people call a “Place” (ie. Square).

It didn’t make much sense to me when I found it out. As far as I could tell, although it’s true that some “places” (with silent “e”) are square, such as the Plaza Mayor in Madrid, as far as I could tell, most were round. So I really couldn’t fathom why they are called “squares” in English language areas of the world.

We also call very wide avenues “boulevards”. And as I mentioned before, we take the “métro” rather than the subway or underground.

Sovereignty and Imperialism

The great majority of Canadians enjoy being a monarchy and having Queen Elizabeth II as head of state. I dunno, we just do. We think it’s pretty cool, to have a queen and a royal family. It’s quaint and fun. What’s more, the British royal family have always been quite crazy about Canada and have always treated the country well.

Customs and Names

In Canada we hang out at the shopping centre rather than the mall. We can do our shopping at both a grocery store or a supermarket. A grocery store usually refers to a small food shop while supermarkets are very large.

Like Americans, we go to elementary school and high school. But after graduation, we don’t head off to a college but rather, to a university. A college, as far as I was ever able to discern, was a sort of élite school where children from wealthy families could attend for a year or so after high school but before entering university. In that sense, I suppose you could sort of refer to a college as a “preparatory school”.

Colleges were also vocational schools where you could study a “métier” or a trade, if you didn’t want to go to university or undertake academic studies.

What You Can Buy

Canadians always go crazy when we go to visit the United States and we walk into a store, like Walmart or a supermarket. It is like going to the Mecca! There are sooo many things to buy in the United States! Such a variety of brands and such a humungous number of goods is never available at a shop in Canada!

Now, it is true that there are some things that we have more of in Canada than in Spain. We have instant flavoured oatmeal and cream of wheat. We have more cookie flavours than in Spain.

But the cheese selection is really, really poor. Basically, from what I remember, about the only cheese you could buy was cottage cheese and the plastic-flavoured Kraft cheddar cheese cut into little square slices and wrapped in plastic.

In fact, there seemed to be a dearth of milk and dairy products in general in Canada. We only had one, maybe at the most two, brands of milk. You could get it in whole fat, semi and skimmed varieties. But there were only one or two brands.

I remember going to the supermarket for the first time in Spain. I nearly fell over when I beheld the gigantic range of choices in brands of milk. Puleva, Pascual, Covap, Asturiana…… Just the brands of milk you could buy in Spain occupied one entire aisle!

The same is true of yoghurts as well. In Canada, at least when I lived there, you had Sealtest, and that was it. True, there were many flavours you couldn’t find, like blueberry and raspberry, which were flavours that, until recently, seemed as foreign to Spanish people as Martian flavours.

But once again, the enormous number of brands of yoghurt available in Spain was overwhelming, to me.

In Canada, most people read about all the new products that come out in the US in magazines and drool over them. We count the years (yes, years) until they finally start getting imported to Canada.

And if we’re lucky and we live near the border, like I did, we get to take a road trip a couple of times a year to the US, where we bombard the stores and SNATCH UP aaalll those goodies that we just can’t find in Canada.

We’d drive back to the border with the car trunk loaded to the maximum. Usually the kind and understanding customs officers would just glance through our goods, which were probably enough to stock up a small shop, and wave us through with a sympathetic smile.

I remember when Carmex brand lip balm first came out in the States. A friend of mine who was a makeup artist dropped in to the south of the border and hoarded up a huge stash of little jars of Carmex, which she then doled out magnanimously among her friends back in Canada.

Canada doesn’t have its own car company either. They import all their cars, although several American companies, like Ford, do have factories in Canada, where they manufacture vehicles solely for use in this country.

So I was quite amazed when I arrived in Spain and discovered that Spain actually has its own car company, Seat.

The American Dream

As far as I’m aware, no such equivalent exists in Canada. If anything, perhaps the Canadian dream is to be able to emigrate to the United States haha!

How about you? If you are a Canadian, or an American who has ever visited Canada, or a Canadian or American living in Spain, what differences have you found?

Do leave me a comment if you’d like. I LURRVE receiving (positive, non-spammy) comments!

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Christmas Eve Musings

Dec24

Can you believe it’s Christmas Eve and unlike the rest of the country, I am not:

munching on apéritifs with my kids
chatting with relatives that I only see once a year (who don’t exist anyways…… maybe imaginary relatives haha?)
sitting near a fireplace singing Christmas carols
sitting around a Christmas tree playing the zambomba

(pic of zambomba, a traditional Christmas instrument round here to mark the rhythm while singing Christmas carols)

Photo Credit: Wikipedia

out on the street setting off firecrackers (I hate firecrackers!)
cooking
cleaning the kitchen
washing the dishes

I am just lying around the house with my kids, surfing the net while my kids play together. And that’s wonderful.

I think of all those countless endless afternoons when I am not lying around the house surfing the net while my kids play together, because I am working.

I think of all those countless endless afternoons where my kids are not playing at all, because they have homework.

I think of all those countless endless afternoons where my kids are not together, because my youngest son stays with his father when I work.

So I dunno if our Christmas Eve is boring, by other people’s standards. And maybe I would’ve liked to have a bit more pizzazz in our festivity hehe.

But it’s okay. Christmas Eve is about being with family. And even though I live with my family (my kids), the three of us are rarely together, except late at night after work.

And right now we are together.

Just wish we could be together ALL THE TIME haha!

Well, I have been seeing lots of blogs wishing readers a Merry Christmas and happy holidays today. So whatever holiday you celebrate, I would like to wish you a happy one too.

Happy Holidays!

May your world always be borne…… on the wings of a butterfly……

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Grey Skies: Ces Jours Si Tristes, Si Gris, Profonds, Estos Días Tristes y Grises, Profundos, Just a Little Piece of Sky

Feb8

Ces jours tristes, profonds, sans fin et sans espoir, quand les rêves deviennent gris et plus lointains que jamais et le ciel pleure incessant, grisâtre et sans repos.

Just waxing dreary and drab on a drab and dreary winter’s day in southern Spain. Even if we’re really lucky and we never get snow or ice, we do get grey skies. I love the rain. But life can seem dreary and hopeless when this is the only piece of sky you can get from the window of the tiny one-bedroom-with-a-walk-in-closet-as-the-second-bedroom in da inna big city where we live.

On a brighter note, this is the Med in January. You can see it is raining somewhere around Torremolinos (where all the grey lines are slashing down) and out at sea. But you can still appreciate the brilliant sunset.

Just daily life here in a warm country in winter. It’s great to be in a place where it never snows, but on the other hand, daily life can still drag you down, especially if the economy is bad and you have to work ten hours every day just to make ends meet and pay the bills. There’s no time to even go out for a walk to enjoy the brilliant weather that we have the privilege of, well, enjoying! This photo was snapped as I got off the bus and dashed off to trudge away yet a few more hours at one of the companies where I work. I like the company but the hours are long. Not at this particular company, in case they happen to be reading this hehe, but all together at the three companies together, the hours are long.

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The Orange Trees

Feb19

I love to see orange trees. I really love the sight of these perennial greens loaded down with fruit. Growing up in Canada, we never saw oranges, of course. In fact, it was inconceivable and totally impossible, to me, that any plant could keep its leaves twelve months of the year (except conifers, of course). Oranges were this rare, exotic thing that arrived in crates from California or Florida, half-wilted already.

So I love to see orange trees, because they remind me that we don’t live in the Arctic anymore! I love to see them because they tell me that in some parts of the world, there is life the whole year round.

I stop often to take photos of them, and every once in a while, I’ll upload a few of these photos here. Not too many at a time (although I literally have dozens!), because if I beat you over the head with endless scenes of oranges, well, that’s no fun.

Oranges grow all over the place here. You can’t eat them, though. Otherwise, how would supermarkets and fruitmongers survive? The oranges that grow out on the street are bitter oranges. You could, I suppose, take a few home for free and make bitter orange jam with them. But why would you want to do that, anyways, when you can get a jar of bitter orange jam for about a euro at the supermarket, and save yourself all the fuss? Besides which, the ones on the streets must be chock full of contamination and pollution from sucking up car fumes all the time.