kellycrull.com - expat life in Spain

I received a comment from a reader today who recently moved to Córdoba, Spain from the US, couldn’t find peanut butter (her comfort food), and was wondering if I could help her.

So, in case there are any other Americans out there are craving a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich in Spain, I thought I would list a few places where I’ve found peanut butter, at least here in Madrid.

1. Chinese alimentaciones (convenience stores) which actually import Skippy peanut butter with a Chinese label. I know of one on c/San Bernardino that always has peanut butter, but the brand changes sometimes.

2. Carrefour is a common grocery store that (at least in the past) carried a brand of peanut butter called Capitán Mani.

3. Hespen & Suárez - some specialty international stores like this one also carry peanut butter imported from the US. Here in Madrid we also have a couple “American stores” with all products imported from the States.

In every case, it’s going to cost you. You’ll most likely pay a few euros for a tiny jar.

Alternatively, you can either have a friend bring you some from the States, or pick some up in a country like The Netherlands where peanut butter can be found in your normal grocery store.

At least 153 of the 172 passengers died in a plane crash in Madrid yesterday. My sympathies to those who were affected by this tragedy.

It’s not difficult to imagine myself in the place of these passengers. I fly out of the Madrid airport often and use the same airline. I’m especially thankful today for the gift of life.

Here are a few articles from the BBC, NY Times, and EL País.

Also, a video simulation of the crash.

TVE is broadcasting two channels of the Olympics online:www.rtve.es/deportes/pekin08/

Alleke at the pool last summer

Living in a foreign country often feels like that game we would play at the pool as kids where we would try to see how long we could hold our breath under water. Mostly we played to see who could last the longest, but also because it was fascinating to be under water where everything looked and sounded differently.Using water as my analogy, I feel like when it comes to living in a foreign country there are three kinds of people: swimmers, snorkelers, and fish.

Swimmers (holding your breath)
As kids at the pool, we had to come up for air at some point. It was inevitable. In my experience, most people who live abroad are holding their breath. They want to see how long they can last. They come to see the world from a different angle, and they study or work temporary jobs so they can experience the local culture. Most eventually return home to be closer to friends and family or pursue a career.

Snorkelers (sucking air through a tube)
Others, like us, are snorkeling. We found jobs at home that sent us to work in a foreign country. In our case, April and I work for an international church called Oasis Madrid, and as such, were hired by an international non-profit organization that pays us from home. This is a viable means of living in a foreign country, but it’s fragile. If anything happens to that snorkel tube, we need to come up for air. Exchange rates and permission to work in a foreign country can change. Plus, most international organizations and companies, like the military, expect their employees to move every couple years, making it difficult to settle down somewhere and integrate. April and I love our jobs, and plan to keep them, but if we wanted to stay in Spain and change careers, it would be very difficult because we found our jobs at home, not here. Our education and experience from home don’t translate very well.

Fish (breathing water)
To live in a foreign country permanently means to completely reinvent yourself. In other words, if you want to breath under water, you have to learn to be a fish. I haven’t met very many fish, and by that I mean I haven’t met many non-European couples who have moved to Spain, found Spanish jobs, and plan to stay. After a year or two, most people decide it’s not worth the trouble, and they realize they don’t want to be fish. They miss their families, or the familiarity of their own culture, or they realize they could get a better job at home.Let’s face it, those from the foreign country will almost always be more qualified for most jobs. They speak the language, they intuitively know how things work, and they have a base of friends and family who support them. Learning to be a fish is not simply a matter of putting in enough time and effort, it means countless people going out of their way to listen to you fumble along in a language that’s not your own, rent you a room or an apartment when they don’t know much about you or your culture, and give you a job when others are more qualified. It can happen, but it’s a slow process.

What I do know is…
I didn’t expect April and I to be some of the few internationals I know who still live in Spain. I really don’t know why we stayed, and they left. Many of them seemed more fit for Spain than us, and what makes it even more bizarre is we liked living in the US and we love our families, so it’s not like we didn’t give up a lot to move here.I suppose we stay because a) we are a part of a very close-knit group of people in our church who care about us, which makes us feel like we belong here, b) we believe our jobs are important and help make Spain a better place, which gives us a purpose for being here beyond just seeing the world from another perspective, and c) Spain (specifically Madrid, and even more specifically our neighborhood) challenges us to be the kind of people we want to be. So, we feel like Spain helps us to be better people.

Photo of the Moorish arches in the Synagogue of Santa María La Blanca in Toledo, Spain.

My wife April and I are American, and our daughter Alleke was born in Spain. We often get asked questions about April’s pregnancy, the hospital where April was born, whether it is possible to have a natural birth in Spain, and in general what April’s experience was like giving birth in Spain.

So, I asked April if she would be willing to tell her birth story here on kellycrull.com, which you’ll find below. Also, if you are interested in knowing more about having a baby in Spain, visit my newest blog called Spain Dad, a baby blog.

On October 2, we had our regular prenatal classes that evening. After doing our normal stretches and meditation, Carmen, the midwife told me and the other woman who was at 38 weeks that it was time to practice pushing. Knowing that our baby girl was due in two days, I figured it was a good idea. After class, we talked with Carmen rehearsing all the things we needed to do if I went into labour. She mentioned to Kelly that she was going to be on-duty in the hospital on Tuesday night and Thursday morning, so if we wanted her to be there, try to plan accordingly.

For the past few nights, we had been taking long walks, which was our habit during the pregnancy. That night we decided to take an extra long walk, knowing that it could help induce labor. We left the classes and walked about 15 minutes to a bookstore to get a baby book for Alleke. Then we walked out from Plaza Fadrell to the edge of town, past the concert hall, nearly to the basilica, and then back again, down the tree-lined boulevard. Once we got home, we had been walking for nearly two hours. Since it was a little past midnight, we decided to go to bed.

Around 2 am or so, I woke up with a lot of pain in my hip sockets. I kept shifting around, trying to fall back asleep, or trying to stretch what felt like really tight muscles. I slept off and on, getting up to go to the bathroom, or just feeling like I was in pain. For awhile I laid there trying to time how far apart the pain was. Now and again the last few weeks I had restless nights thinking I was in labour when I obviously hadn’t been, so I thought this might be the same. About 7 am I finally woke up Kelly (whether intentionally or from being so restless I don’t know) and explained what had been going on. He asked if I was in labour, and I honestly couldn’t tell him, but said we probably should be ready, because I was consistently having pain in my hips.

After eating some breakfast, I made some heating packs out of old socks and rice and popped them in the microwave. When I laid these on my hips, it helped the pain go away and I could sleep more. I took a nap and Kelly worked in the office for the morning. We had decided a few days before that before the baby was born, we really wanted to go to one of our favorite restaurants for a last menú del día. When I woke up from my nap, the pain in my hips had subsided some, so I decided we should go to the restaurant. We headed out and walked past the four or five restaurants in our neighborhood that we liked. Either we didn’t like what was on the menu or the restaurant was full, so after getting really frustrated, we eventually returned home. We sat at home for a little while trying to decide what to do and I finally said “I can’t just stay here and concentrate on how I’m feeling. It’ll be better if we just go.” So around 4 we headed out again and went to the closest restaurant which had space at that point because it was later.

Once the food came, including a heavy paella, I realized that this probably was not such a good idea. I was still getting the pain in my hips off and on, and when it was strong, there was nothing I could do but shift in my chair and grit my teeth. Getting to the comfort of my own home seemed like a much better idea. Besides, I wasn’t much of a conversation partner.

On our way home, even though we were only a block away, I had to stop and push against a light pole during a contractions (which I had finally started to label the stretching pain in my hips). While we were stopped, Kim called to talk to Kelly, and he told her the baby would probably be coming any day, but didn’t say that I was actually in labor. We got home around 5.30. I finished packing what I could of our hospital bag and changed into my pajamas. I went to sit on the couch, with my heating pads, and read Chronicles of Narnia for awhile. The whole day Kelly kept asking me what I wanted him to do and finally I said that I just wanted him near me, even though I didn’t need any help yet. So he sat on the other couch working on a web design. While I was reading, stretching, breathing, imagining my cervix opening, etc. I tried to time the contractions. They weren’t coming consistently, but did seem to be about every 7 to 10 minutes. I eventually decided to try to take another nap with the rice socks helping for the pain.

I woke up a little before 7. I was still groggy, but I remember Kelly saying something about a plug-in he had found for the new website he was working on. That’s when I screamed, heard a loud pop, stood up, and ran to the bathroom. Kelly followed yelling, “What happened, what happened.” I sat on the toilet saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know, I think my water broke.” It wasn’t as much water as I was expecting, though, and I felt like my entire insides were emptying out and the pain had jumped off the scale.

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I’ve put together an audio guide with everything you need to know about planning a trip to hike the Camino de Santiago.

The audio guide is an interview with my wife April. She answers some of the basic questions most people have about the Camino de Santiago and shares her experience walking the Camino Primitivo in June 2005.

You can listen to the interview as a whole or by topic.

Complete Audio Guide:
El Camino de Santiago, A Podcast
(78mb) Listen Now

By Topic:
What is the Camino de Santiago?
(2mb) Listen Now

What are the different routes I can take?
(3mb) Listen Now

How long does it take to hike the Camino de Santiago?
(2mb) Listen Now

What is a typical day like on the Camino de Santiago?
(4mb) Listen Now

Who should I travel with on the Camino de Santiago?
(4mb) Listen Now

What kind of people do you meet on the Camino de Santiago?
(4mb) Listen Now

What is the credential and why is it important?
(8mb) Listen Now

What equipment do I need to do the Camino de Santiago?
(9mb) Listen Now

What is the hiking like on the Camino de Santiago?
(3mb) Listen Now

What is there to see on the Camino de Santiago?
(7mb) Listen Now

How do you know where to go on the Camino de Santiago?
(5mb) Listen Now

Do you need to speak Spanish to do the Camino de Santiago?
(3mb) Listen Now

What are the hostels (albergues in Spanish) like on the Camino de Santiago?
(11mb) Listen Now

How much does it cost to do the Camino de Santiago?
(4mb) Listen Now

What have you learned from hiking the Camino de Santiago?
(6mb) Listen Now

Would you hike the Camino de Santiago again?
(2mb) Listen Now

Read my review of Margaret Malewski’s GenXpat online at the American Citizens Abroad website.Here’s the link. You’ll have to scroll down to GenXpat under the list of reviewed books and click on the title.www.aca.ch/cadacabo.htm

One place I take friends who visit me in Madrid is a flamenco bar called El Mesón de la Guitarra. The bar is a dimly-lit cave carved out of the wall of Madrid’s most well-known square, Plaza Mayor. On any given night one or two men with guitars will strum their chords while older men crowded around wooden tables bellow their flamenco with fierce vibrato.

I brought my friends for the music initially, but one evening a man at a table next to us who was eating a plate of peppers ordered a plate of the same for my friends and I. Now I bring my friends for the music and the peppers.

Read my full recipe online at Other Spain Magazine. Here’s the link:

spain.othercountries.com/otherspain/pages/recipes/pimientos.asp

These little potatoes are probably the most traditional tapas food in Spain. They can be found almost everywhere. I usually order a plate of patatas bravas when I’m out for tapas with friends because they’re cheap, they’re vegetarian (there’s usually at least one herbivore in the group), and in a country where most food is cool on the tongue, these little spuds, packed with hot pepper and vinegar, make your mouth zing.

Read my full recipe online at Other Spain Magazine. Here’s the link:

spain.othercountries.com/otherspain/pages/recipes/bravas.asp