“Why are you going to Spain? Why Bilbao? Isn’t 5 months a
long time?”
These are the most frequent questions I hear, so if you’ve
asked them yourselves, you are in good company. I’m tempted to say that this
all started with a comment Amy made to Tom last spring: “why don’t you and
Ellen come to Bilbao with us so I’ll have something to do while David is
working?” Maybe it started much earlier
than that, during third grade, when I took my first Spanish class, or when I
was a junior in high school and thought briefly about becoming an exchange
student, or with the joy I’ve felt during 50 years of Spanish classes. I also
remember hearing my father’s mother talking to him in Ukrainian and my thrill
of recognition that it was a secret communication that neither my mother nor we
children could understand. Maybe it’s a convergence of all those elements, plus
having the enviable, unstructured time of a retiree and a wonder of a
spouse that enjoys the sublime adventure of travel.
So we are going to Bilbao on the north coast of Spain, in
the Basque county for 5 months because: we love the Spanish language and feel
comfortable communicating in Spanish (although there will be challenges!), we love
to experience new cultures and we want to stay long enough to feel we are a
part of the place, to understand and fall into the rhythm of everyday life and,
very important, we can share these special things with our great and good
friends David and Amy. Tom, who on occasion can be sometimes at least partly
(!) direct, says “I’m going because it will be interesting” and I’m sure he’s
right and this excites me. Sorry. Times change and so does libido.
The geography round-up: Bilbao is in northeastern Spain,
about 12 km from the Bay of Biscay. This is green Spain: think Costa de Lluvia
rather than Costa del Sol. It’s also Basque Spain, where Basque or Euskara is spoken by about 25% of the population. More
about language later. It’s about 1.5 hours by car from the French border and
near the wine producing region of La Rioja. It’s the home of the Guggenheim museum,
regional tapas called pintxos, a light wine called txacoli and now, Tom, Ellen,
David and Amy.
Next blog: the pain of the non-lucrative residence visa.
No comments:
Post a Comment