Archive for the ‘expat life’ Category
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3
Jun
2010
Shamelessly Using my Child as a Means to Meet People
If I lived in a NYC I'd have made friends (with a little help from my baby) with Heidi and Seal by now, FOR SURE
While the idea of gated communities and identical housed suburbia makes me break out in a nervous twitch, I have to say that Madrid generally does gated communities well. (Except for the complete lack of parks — don’t get me started). I live in a delightful little street within a gated community — yes a community within a community, we’re particularly precious —that has a common pool, tennis court and small green area (undoubtedly meeting the Spanish definition of a park which can be anything from what I would call a nature strip – that’s the little bit of council managed grass next to footpaths and in the middle of roads for you non-antipodeans — to a patch of dirt with a swing on it).
This means that now that the sun is out, so are the mothers and their children. The mothers form little clusters based on existing friendships. This is my chance to make friends, but given the pre-exisiting clusters, I need an in. It’s a little bit like school, only dressing like an Emo or sleeping with one of the members of the first football team isn’t going to get me into any of the groups.
28
May
2010
Madrileño’s that dress their child like Little Lord Fauntleroy
There’s quite an astonishing culture in Madrid of dressing your child to look like it’s 1880 and you’re off to church. If it’s actually a Confirmation boys are off to they will be dressed in either a sailor’s outfit or other military inspired arrangement. If you have family here you will receive a lot of this clothing by way of gifts and spend a lot of energy making up elaborate stories of the many outings baby has had in the outfit and how delightful everyone thought your darling child looked, while the offending boy dress with blue shoulder ribbons actually sits safely tucked away in the bottom drawer.
One of the more disturbing aspects of seeing an innocent, curly haired boy in a baby blue and light brown outfit of bib and brace shorts with a frilly collar, knee high socks and lace up shoes is, despite your awareness that he is an unfortunate and innocent pawn in his parent’s children-as-accessories obsession, you just can’t avoid the word SISSY flying into your head and almost on to your lips. I KNOW. Dreadful. I didn’t know that word was still in my brain somewhere. But that’s what happens when you see these kids.
13
May
2010
The El Gordo Sing-along
There was a lot of excitement regarding the Euro millions largest ever 86 million pound jackpot last week. And sure, that’s an impressive lottery, but I don’t think anything can compare to the pomp, ceremony, tradition and downright oddness of Spain’s annual Christmas lottery – El Gordo (The Fat One).
It’s not just that it’s the biggest lottery in the world, hitting 2 billion euro last year, or the oldest (starting in 1812), for me it’s really about the sheer hysteria, complete media saturation, and best of all, the singing results, televised every year on December 22 and considered as much a part of Christmas as presents under the tree.
You read that correctly. Singing results. School children work in teams of two to sing out the winning number while another sings out its corresponding prize amount. There are a lot of draws in this lottery. Perhaps hundreds of 1000 euro wins, several fifth, fourth and third prize draws and then the two big first and second prize draws. That’s a lot of singing. There’s just the one tune. Well I guess it’s kind of more like a cantation. Each year, school children across the country are carefully selected and trained for this very special task, and a day of high drama and complex number sequences which must fit snugly into a given stanza.*
9
May
2010
The Land of Limbo – expats and why I am not a spoilt brat. Most of the time.
This is one from the wedding snaps. Not really.
There is a feeling familiar to many expats – well, at least those who have not committed to being an ex-expat, i.e., committing to living in the one country forever, they are usually happy with their choice (and keen to tell you about it, may I mention in a totally non-snipey way). For the rest of us? It’s often the land of limbo baby.
The most common discussion amongst expats, almost from the moment you get off the plane in your adopted country is – ‘How long are you here for?’ ‘How long do you think you’ll stay?’ ‘When do you think you’ll head home?’ ‘Do you think you’ll be here for good?’ And many other equally same-same-but-different-questions.
These questions come from many places – from other expats eager to know if you are staying to keep them company (hello London friends); other locals keen to see you leave (hello everyone who wants a place in my nursery); family who would like their grandchildren to stay put forever (hello mother-in-law); family who would like their grandchildren returned to them (hello mother); friends who want you to come to their weddings (hello increasingly impatient friends on all sides of the world); and people who may or may not want to employ you based on your answer (umm, hello all future employers. This whole post is actually made up.)
6
May
2010
An (almost) local’s guide to Madrid
One of our readers contacted us last week to ask about my take on the ‘must sees’ in Madrid. I wait around most of my days waiting for someone to ask me to tell them what I think, so, naturally, I’m delighted. It’s with no small amount of chest puffing and grinning then, that I bring you my personal guide to Madrid.
Madrid is a wonderful city to be a tourist. Everything you would want to see is in a fairly compact area. The central area of Madrid is full of truly stunning buildings, plazas and fountains that you must see. The underground and bus systems are a dream, even for non-Spanish speakers. Walking the streets is an absolute pleasure on almost every day of the year. Even in the cold of winter Madrid is characterised by impossibly blue, sunny skies.
I started writing this post with a great deal of detail only to find I was not even one fifth of the way through my recommendations and already at a 1000 words. So I give you bullet points, for both our benefits. Certainly there’s room for greater brevity, but it was never my strong point, as you may have noticed from previous posts.
24
Apr
2010
Moving on Up. Or down. Or sideways or something. With a handy moving house list.
I have just moved house for about the ninth time. No wait, I just counted. 14 moves in nine years. Including several changes of country and state. This one was only ten minutes drive away – walk in the park really. No wait, I forgot, it wasn’t, it was a PHENOMENAL PAIN IN THE AR*E.
I mean, putting on the rose tinteds, there are definitely things I actually enjoy about moving. For example:
The house search. At least for the first few weeks when you are full of hope and anticipation. The list of possibilities seems endless, your budget really quite big. The real estate agents are desperate to show you places and badger you with houses.
The packing. I enjoy the process of streamlining every time I pack. The massive charity piles, the rubbish piles, the ‘I haven’t worn it in two years so I will just think about it’ piles.
Removalists. 14 moves, and generally a wonderful luxury having someone moving your stuff for you (as you recall endless dropping of sofas on your own in younger poorer days). Good ones including the slight surprise of the one-armed removalist man. No, I am not joking – he was a genius.
28
Mar
2010
Even though we are rich and famous, I still think about the small things. Like why I love London.
So, in case you missed it, we recently became very famous and embarrassingly wealthy after a guest post on Mia Freedman’s wonderful blog, http://www.mamamia.com.au/ . The post was about making friends in a new place and was fairly cynical in tone. I know – shocking. Anyway, in the subsequent comments amongst all the lovely and amusing ones, someone suggested we had very bad attitudes and we should be more positive and we’d probably have more luck finding friends. Frankly, I’m not sure – I’m quite bossy and Jacqui is mildly annoying – but there’s always hope I spose. In the same vein someone else suggested that maybe we should be more appreciative of the life we are leading. Basically everyone hated us. Or maybe that was just our husbands commenting.
21
Mar
2010
Things I have learnt about travelling with kids – part one, the airplane ride. AKA Dante’s vision of Hell.
See that flying thing in the background - that is your child. See those two people in the foreground? You. Possibly attacking an air hostess.
A good friend of mine once commented that you learn something more about travelling with kids every time you do it. I scoffed at the time as how much really can there be to learn? I’ve travelled with a kid long haul and two kids a few times. But now, yes Mill, I think you are right. The little buggers keep growing and their needs changing. As opposed to me, since for about fifteen years now I have been happy with a very short list of travel requirements: business class flights, 5 star resorts and child free swimming pools. And one day I’ll actually achieve it, I’m sure.
Anyway, I have learnt much in this last trip. Far too much – as I have two children and know everything there is to know about child rearing, I am gobsmacked, but it is true, there are things I wish I had known before taking the trip. You know how flying was really boring before you have kids? It’s not so much boring now as some sort of sub-Saharan African sand running marathon endurance event. On the plus side, having experienced it too many times now, flying without them means that even the most budget of airline economy seats feels like business class which is an unexpected bonus not mentioned in What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Cover the big stuff people.
12
Feb
2010
San Miguel Food Market Madrid
The San Miguel Market (Mercado de san Miguel) in Madrid is an exciting culinary and entertainment addition to the centre of Madrid, long overdue. Very overdue in fact. The building sat empty for over 10 years. It has been beautifully renovated and the food displays are a pleasure to look at as well as feast on. You can sip on champagne while sliding back freshly shucked oysters or grab a tray of tapas and a beer to enjoy under the high ceilings of the light and airy interior.
If you go on the weekend, try to arrive outside of 2:30 to 3:30 when it gets a little bit crazy – but if you arrive at peak hour, the insiders trick is to enter through the “back door”, the entrance farthest from plaza mayor where there is more space than the hordes realize. We found a space even with pram in tow.
San Miguel Market and Surrounding Buildings
10
Feb
2010
Friendly Medical Advice from your Local Butcher
In continuation to my last post, the hospital and sick child at home experience has given me even more pause for thought – this time in relation to the Spanish approach to medicinal care. On the one hand I discovered a whole other area where people like to give advice (to my delight, as you can imagine). On the other hand there was also a slightly laissez faire approach from the nurses in the hospital actually qualified to give it.
Look! FUN with medication!
Spaniards are particularly prone to handing out unqualified medical advice – the government had to run a multi million euro ad campaign which featured a woman in the market handing over her antibiotics to her good friend the neighbourhood butcher telling him to take them to address his cold like symptoms. The tag line to the ad was “You´re not a doctor, don’t share prescription drugs and see your doctor for medical advice”. Or some such.
