Sometimes it’s just a few ‘locos’ who ruin everything.
A few too many of those idiots (and a few too many degrees…)
and you almost forget how much love there is around you.
Sometimes I think:
Why am I here?
Is all this really worth it?
I’m trying to run a business, find my rhythm, build something…
but some days, it just feels impossible.
Luckily, this afternoon I had a moment of clarity.
Fernando, the baker,
who always asks me how I’m doing when it’s hot outside
while he’s the one who has every right to complain,
standing all day in the heat of his ovens.
Manolo, the butcher,
who asks how my children are.
And during the blackout a few weeks ago,
he stayed in his butcher shop with a chain of chorizos around his neck
to cheer everyone up.
The elderly lady who stops by my coworking space every day, to greet my dog Cato and keeps telling me how beautiful the plants in front of my door are.
The pharmacist from next door, who comes to pick up Cato every day to take her to the pharmacy and gives her a cookie there, where she gets a pat on the back from all the employees.
Pablo, who worked at my coworking space until a while ago and has helped me with all sorts of things very often.
And Bea, who has lived in Vejer since March and cheers me up every day with her energy and happy face. Like yesterday, when she didn’t have to work, but she came anyway. Because she missed us.
And she tells me how happy she is with the food I’m cooking for everyone this summer.
All those people…
So, so kind!
It’s not easy to move to another country. And the last few months especially have been hard.
And yes, sometimes I thought: What am I doing here? Why did I leave my country?
With a comfortable house. A beautiful garden.
And my children nearby.
And then I’m in a restaurant.
Full of Spaniards.
A band comes in and plays so well
that I start to cry.
And I can’t stop.
Especially when a cake appears on the table
and the whole restaurant starts singing ‘Cumpleaños Feliz’.
On a moment like that I remember.
That’s why I’m in Spain. That’s why I’m in Andalusia.
Because of these people.
Warm. Cheerful.
Always ready to have a good time.
And, definitely, to chat.
So my mission for this summer:
I’m going to ignore the ‘locos’.
The ones who make noise. The ones who only think about themselves. The ones who make me feel like they want me to leave.
And I’m going to focus on ‘La gente bonita’.
The ones who are kind. Sweet. Sincere. And who make up the absolute majority here in Andalusia.
