Why I hate living in Spain, sometimes!
Do I hate living in Spain? Well, hate is a strong word. There’s no way I hate living in Spain, but there are a few things that get on my goat about being Spain, and especially Seville. The fact that I’ve been living in Spain for 13 years, and I’m going to continue living here (plus my wife, kids and some friends are also Spanish) makes this a hard blog to write. I normally try to block the negatives away, but where ever you live in the world, you end up getting pet hates.
The reasons I hate living in Spain, sometimes
Always a guiri – a foreigner
I’ve tried to blend into the Spanish culture, really I have. In the past I grew my hair longer to look more Spanish. I’ve got used to eating late and leaving the house to go out at night at 10pm. I’ve participated in Seville’s world famous religious festival, Semana Santa. I’ve even got married to a Spanish lady and had Spanish children. Despite all that, I’ve realized I’ll always be a guiri.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be Spanish. I’d just like to stop getting treated like a tourist when I’m in my own city. I still get short changed in restaurants and bars, and now and then waiters will slip an extra beer or two on my bill. This happens less now that I live on the outskirts, in fact the other night a waiter forgot to charge us for two glasses of wine.
What gets me most is when I start a conversation with someone I don’t know and after a couple of phrases they cotten on to the fact that I’m not Spanish, and they say ‘Tu no eres de aqui, no?’ – ‘You’re not from round here, are you?’ Depending on the way, and tone, they say it, can be a bit offending as it’s either an attack on my level of Spanish, or my guiri accent.
If you’re coming over to live in Spain, then just be aware that even though Spanish are generally friendly, you’ll never really get to be on their level, there are exceptions of course.
Absolute Rubbish
I might just be getting old, but recently I’ve noticed how dirty Seville is. Spanish youths have a weekend hobby called a botellón – a huge piss up in the street. I’m not saying it’s outrageous, the youngsters have enough stress in the week with exams and university pressures, so they need to let off some steam, we all do. What I don’t understand is why they leave so much litter.
When I used to run by the river on Friday and Saturday morning, I had to breathe in the stale booze stench. This was another reason I moved to the outskirts. I feel sorry for the council workers who have to clean up the empty bags of rubbish and smashed whisky and rum bottles. The police don’t enforce their power enough. Part of me thinks they just let them get on with it to create more cleaning jobs to help with unemployment.
Frogger with caca
It’s not only the youths who are adamant on wrecking this beautiful country. Another reason why I hate living in Spain sometimes is that walking down my street is like playing frogger, but instead of jumping on the logs to cross the river, I have to avoid the giant dog dollops. This is especially horrible when you are taking your kids to school in the morning.
Some locals think it’s all right to let their dogs mess all over the street and leave early morning surprises for everyone. I’m a dog owner and it’s not that difficult to clean up the mess. There’s a famous Spanish saying that it’s good luck to tread in dog poo with your left foot. Maybe that’s why some people leave their mess on the floor, to bring luck to others, or it could just be because they are lazy.
[image error]
Deadly summers
“Come to Seville; we have 300 days of sunshine a year.” I’m guilty of saying this myself. The problem is that about 50 of those days are too scorching to do anything. Early mornings are pleasant, but only until about 10am. From 1pm to 7pm you can’t do anything outside your house, unless you have a pool.
Seville is like a ghost town towards the end of July and most of August. I quite like Seville when it’s quieter; less botellones and games of frogger, but the heat gets to you and it can be really intense.
When anyone asks to visit me in August I put them off.
“You will die in the heat.”
At least one week in August it gets up to 50 degrees. After lunch your digestive system uses up all your energy and can’t cope with the heat so you’re forced to have a siesta. You have a cold shower and are sweating before you’ve reached for your towel. You can sleep naked, but the mosquitoes always seem to find the juicy bits.
As the years go by, I’m getting better in the sauna. I can put up with sweaty eyes at every meal and force myself to write through the siesta time, but the mosquitoes always seem to find a way to sting.
The Tax Office
Hacienda are just a pain in the gonads. I get what they do. I understand they have to take from the rich and give it back to the rich, but what gets me is that each month you never know how much you’re going to pay in taxes. Also, each year you have to do your tax returns, and you never know when they are going to pay you. I’d much prefer paying the right amount of tax each month, and having more money over the year, than paying more tax each month and then waiting for the money back. But I can’t see the system changing.
So those are some reasons I hate living in Spain, but I’m willing to put up with those nasty aspects and just get on with my life teaching, writing, and living abroad with my wife and family. If you’re thinking of coming to Spain then don’t let these comments sway you, find out for yourself. Maybe you have some more pet hates to add? Please share. Bear in mind this post was updated in July 2018, so the comments below will appear with an older date.
La Giralda in Seville. Photo by Fred
The reasons I hate living in Spain, sometimes
Always a guiri – a foreigner
I’ve tried to blend into the Spanish culture, really I have. In the past I grew my hair longer to look more Spanish. I’ve got used to eating late and leaving the house to go out at night at 10pm. I’ve participated in Seville’s world famous religious festival, Semana Santa. I’ve even got married to a Spanish lady and had Spanish children. Despite all that, I’ve realized I’ll always be a guiri.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be Spanish. I’d just like to stop getting treated like a tourist when I’m in my own city. I still get short changed in restaurants and bars, and now and then waiters will slip an extra beer or two on my bill. This happens less now that I live on the outskirts, in fact the other night a waiter forgot to charge us for two glasses of wine.
What gets me most is when I start a conversation with someone I don’t know and after a couple of phrases they cotten on to the fact that I’m not Spanish, and they say ‘Tu no eres de aqui, no?’ – ‘You’re not from round here, are you?’ Depending on the way, and tone, they say it, can be a bit offending as it’s either an attack on my level of Spanish, or my guiri accent.
If you’re coming over to live in Spain, then just be aware that even though Spanish are generally friendly, you’ll never really get to be on their level, there are exceptions of course.
Cleaning up after a botellón – Photo by olgaberrios
Absolute Rubbish
I might just be getting old, but recently I’ve noticed how dirty Seville is. Spanish youths have a weekend hobby called a botellón – a huge piss up in the street. I’m not saying it’s outrageous, the youngsters have enough stress in the week with exams and university pressures, so they need to let off some steam, we all do. What I don’t understand is why they leave so much litter.
When I used to run by the river on Friday and Saturday morning, I had to breathe in the stale booze stench. This was another reason I moved to the outskirts. I feel sorry for the council workers who have to clean up the empty bags of rubbish and smashed whisky and rum bottles. The police don’t enforce their power enough. Part of me thinks they just let them get on with it to create more cleaning jobs to help with unemployment.
Frogger with caca
It’s not only the youths who are adamant on wrecking this beautiful country. Another reason why I hate living in Spain sometimes is that walking down my street is like playing frogger, but instead of jumping on the logs to cross the river, I have to avoid the giant dog dollops. This is especially horrible when you are taking your kids to school in the morning.
Some locals think it’s all right to let their dogs mess all over the street and leave early morning surprises for everyone. I’m a dog owner and it’s not that difficult to clean up the mess. There’s a famous Spanish saying that it’s good luck to tread in dog poo with your left foot. Maybe that’s why some people leave their mess on the floor, to bring luck to others, or it could just be because they are lazy.
[image error]
Summer Heatwave in Spain. Photo by Nasa Goddard
Deadly summers
“Come to Seville; we have 300 days of sunshine a year.” I’m guilty of saying this myself. The problem is that about 50 of those days are too scorching to do anything. Early mornings are pleasant, but only until about 10am. From 1pm to 7pm you can’t do anything outside your house, unless you have a pool.
Seville is like a ghost town towards the end of July and most of August. I quite like Seville when it’s quieter; less botellones and games of frogger, but the heat gets to you and it can be really intense.
When anyone asks to visit me in August I put them off.
“You will die in the heat.”
At least one week in August it gets up to 50 degrees. After lunch your digestive system uses up all your energy and can’t cope with the heat so you’re forced to have a siesta. You have a cold shower and are sweating before you’ve reached for your towel. You can sleep naked, but the mosquitoes always seem to find the juicy bits.
As the years go by, I’m getting better in the sauna. I can put up with sweaty eyes at every meal and force myself to write through the siesta time, but the mosquitoes always seem to find a way to sting.
The Tax Office
Hacienda are just a pain in the gonads. I get what they do. I understand they have to take from the rich and give it back to the rich, but what gets me is that each month you never know how much you’re going to pay in taxes. Also, each year you have to do your tax returns, and you never know when they are going to pay you. I’d much prefer paying the right amount of tax each month, and having more money over the year, than paying more tax each month and then waiting for the money back. But I can’t see the system changing.
So those are some reasons I hate living in Spain, but I’m willing to put up with those nasty aspects and just get on with my life teaching, writing, and living abroad with my wife and family. If you’re thinking of coming to Spain then don’t let these comments sway you, find out for yourself. Maybe you have some more pet hates to add? Please share. Bear in mind this post was updated in July 2018, so the comments below will appear with an older date.
The post Why I hate living in Spain, sometimes! appeared first on A Novel Spain.
No comments have been added yet.
