How to avoid being hassled in morocco (especially if you're a woman)
Travelling to Morocco? You need to know these 9 tips to avoid being hassled or hustled on the streets of Morocco - especially if you're a woman.
Morocco is so easy to access from southern Spain, it would be almost silly not to go at least once. Which is why I've now been twice. The first time was a quick weekend trip to Tangier and Chefchaouen with a friend at the end of the auxiliar school year. The second, a two-week remote working vacation in Casablanca, with a side trip to Marrakech. On both trips, the Moroccan hustle was in full effect.
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In truth, there's no way to avoid being hassled in Morocco. In fact, it should be considered a prominent feature, a defining characteristic of the locale. If you're in well-visited tourist areas like the ones I visited, you're most definitely going to get hassled. Shopkeepers shouting, hash peddlers whispering, little kids begging... it's simply a part of the scene in the streets and souks of Morocco's cities. The best thing for you to guard against, then, is being hustled. Shopkeepers, hash peddlers, little kids, taxi drivers, old women, law enforcement - all could potentially try to lighten your wallet as you walk the streets of Morocco - either by selling, stealing or conning you out of your coins.
Below are a few tips to help you make the Moroccan hassle more tolerable and hopefully help you avoid the Moroccan hustle altogether. While these tips are from my point-of-view as a woman travelling in a Muslim country, almost all of them are applicable to both women and men.
Well except, maybe...
Tip #1 - Go With a Male
On my first trip to Morocco, I went with a male, and though we were hassled, I wondered if I would be more or less hassled if I'd gone on my own. I would get a second chance to test the theory on my second trip. I spent most of my two weeks travelling solo, but had a male expat accompany me for a few days. The difference in the two experiences was incredible. When I went unaccompanied to places (cafes, restaurants, etc.) that I'd previously been with my male friend, I was often approached more aggressively and even openly sexually harassed a couple of times. I also witnessed a couple of incidents of male-to-female violence that unnerved me and generally made me feel more exposed and more wary than any other place I've visited as a solo female traveler. If you're a woman who's new to traveling solo, I'd suggest you get your feet wet in other destinations before diving into Morocco or invite a trusted male companion to go with you.
Tip #2 - Dress Modestly
This is another, somewhat obvious tip for ladies. As a tourist, a lot of your behavior or dress code will be overlooked by Moroccan locals, But there's a big benefit to be gained by dressing to blend in versus to stand out. I'd strongly recommend lightweight, cropped pants instead of shorts, short-sleeved versus sleeveless shirts and dresses, and several lightweight scarves or sweaters to wear while in Morocco. You'll want to always carry your scarf or sweater with you, just in case you find yourself somewhere where covered arms are required.
But, don't think that this restricted dress code equates to an abandonment of fashion sense. On the contrary, Moroccan ladies are quite fashionable - skinny jeans, cute shoes and an endless array of hijab colors, patterns and styles are far more prevalent than head-to-toe burqas. You might also consider investing in a reasonably priced djellaba or two to wear during your stay. It's the one article of clothing that both men and women in Morocco can agree on.
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Tip #3 - Wear Sunglasses and Headphones
Especially good when travelling solo in Morocco, the sunglasses-and-headphones trick is like a semi-impenetrable force field against Moroccan hasslers. You can still hear and see enough to move about, but your eyes and ears are protected from the full onslaught of everything going on around you.
Tip #4 - Know What You're In the Market For
You know how most people get hustled? By not having a clear and committed idea of what they do or do not want. Before you go browsing the stalls in the souks, have an idea of what you actually want to buy. If you have no idea, use part of your time to get a general idea of what's available in the market, then circle back to make purchases. If you know what you want ahead of time, you'll be less likely to end up buying something you didn't want to begin with. You should also ask a trusted local (someone at your hotel, perhaps) expected price ranges for certain items that you may be interested in (whether it's a taxi ride or a tagine), that way you'll know how much you should be paying.
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Tip #5 - Always ask, How Much?
In Morocco, you should treat the phrase, 'how much,' almost like you'd treat the phrase, 'how ya doin?' in American parlance. This is mainly because, in Morocco, you may actually be in the middle of a transaction before you're even aware of it. Ask it of every person who approaches you out of the blue on the street. They'll either:
be shocked that you asked them,
tell you that it costs nothing (you should remain skeptical), or
tell you how much (feel free to haggle or decline)
Either way, at least now you'll be aware of the nature of the interaction.
Tip #6 - Say, 'No Thank You' in Arabic and French
The two most widely spoken languages in Morocco are Arabic and French. I got away with Spanish on the northern coast of Morocco, but further in, it didn't serve me at all. After a few days on my own, I'd mastered what has to be the most useful phrase while in Morocco in both French - 'No, merci,' and Arabic - 'La, chokran'.
Tip #7 - Keep it Moving
Someone yells at you to come buy something? Someone begging you for money? Someone telling you to follow the m so they can show you the way to...? Some guy making unwelcome advances? Put it all behind you. Literally. Don't make eye contact, don't slow down or stand still. Get up and keep walking. This tactic works especially well when coupled with...
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Tip #8 - Just Play Mute
Of course, you don't have to ask, 'how much,' or say 'no, thanks,' if you don't want to. You don't have to say anything at all. In many cases, that's the best way to avoid being hassled in Morocco. So instead of replying, shake your head, put your hand up, or ignore the hassler completely.
Tip #9 - Don't Go Out After Dark
I don't want to imply that I think that Morocco is dangerous after dark, only that I noticed that there was a certain daytime veneer to each Moroccan city I visited that the populace seemed to shrug off after sunset. It was almost like, if you're a tourist who's bold enough to be out after dark, then you're a tourist who's ready for the behind-the-scenes look. Also, I suspect the hustler-to-hassler ratio dramatically increases after dark, so to avoid them, stay at home after sunset.
Have you traveled to Morocco? What was your experience with street hasslers? Do you have any tips you've used to avoid being hassled or hustled in Morocco? Share them in the comments!
(Photo journal) 6 Reasons Sitges Is The Perfect Destination For Just About Everyone
In case I haven't mentioned it already, Barcelona is one of my favorite cities on Earth. It’s cosmopolitan, chock full of culture, it has beaches, nightlife, great food and amazing history and architecture. It has so much to offer that it totally overshadows other neighboring cities and towns that are also worth exploring. One of those towns that I think definitely deserves to share in a little bit of Barna’s shine is Sitges. At just a 45 minute train away from Barcelona’s bustling Sants train station, Sitges is a jewel of a destination that has something to offer almost any type of traveler or pleasure seeker.
Don’t believe me? Here are 6 reasons why you (and just about everyone you know) should visit Sitges.
Sitges is for Lovers
Romantic passages, intimate restaurants, cozy boutique hotels, and sweeping Mediterranean views… even if you’re single and solo, you’re bound to feel a little more sexy here.
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Sitges is for Families
Like the rest of Spain, families abound in restaurants, on the beaches Lots of family-friendly restaurants and activities and plenty of vacation rentals to house a crowd at better-than-hotel rates.
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Sitges is for 'the children'
No, not the little ones. I’m referring to the children of the LGBTQ family. Sitges isn’t just a gay-friendly vacation destination, it’s a gay vacationer’s paradise. It hosts the biggest and most popular gay pride festival in all of Spain every June. No shortage of bars, drag shows, and beeyoutiful boys to gaze at while walking in the streets, sitting in cafes, and lounging on the beaches!
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Sitges is for wild women
Sprinkled all over the shoreline are these bold statues of nude women. And sprinkled along at least one of the beaches in Sitges are bold, nude humans. Sitges is a definitely a safe place for ladies who like to let it all hang out.
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Sitges is for the weary
The hustle and bustle of Barcelona is only a 40-minute ride away on the Rodalies commuter train. As much as I love visiting and partying in Barcelona, I have to admit that after a few days, I’m worn out. Sitges offers a close-by respite from the madness that is the big-city life of Barcelona.
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Sitges is for the posh
High end shops, real estate, and world class restaurants make Sitges a favorite spot for the upper crust set, but you wouldn’t necessarily know it since everyone adopts a more casual, laid back vibe here.
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How To Get There:
Trains from Barcelona to Sitges depart from França, Passeig de Gracia and Sants stations.
There's also a public bus that runs during the day, and a night bus that provides service between the Barcelona and Sitges until well after midnight.
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Where to Stay:
visit sitges travel hotel platjador
Hotel Platjador is a quirky, but comfy boutique beachfront hotel smack in the middle of Sitges. Spring for the balcony suite for all-day people watching without having to leave your room.
What to Eat:
El Trull
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Directly across the street from Hotel Platjador is the oldest chiringuito in Spain (allegedly). Aptly named, El Chiringuito, its food is about as nondescript as its name. If you weren't lucky enough to score a balcony room at Hotel Platjador, Go to El Chiringuito, have a beer and people watch from there.
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Have you been to Sitges yet? What did you love about it?
Why I Travel In Spain Mainly On The Train
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You ever been on a train that’s just moments away from pulling into your destination, so you get up from your seat, start gathering your things and begin moving towards the nearest exit. Then, suddenly you realize that the train doesn’t seem to be slowing down enough to make a stop. Slowly it dawns on you that the train isn’t slowing down, because it’s not going to stop. And as the train ever so slowly rolls past your destination station, and you stand dumbstruck in the middle of the aisle – your rolling bag clutched in one hand, your jacket draped over your other arm – your eyes and mouth widen while you watch your intended place fade away in the distance and you wonder to yourself,
What the f*ck just happened?
And then,
Where the f*ck am I headed to now?
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No? Never happened to you? Oh.
Well…
You ever been on a train seated next to an old Spanish man, who, after almost refusing to move out of your assigned seat when you boarded, later lets out the mother of all silent-but-deadly farts that wakes you and the other guy in the seat across from you out of your naps, prompts a coughing fit from the passenger seated 3 rows back, gives you a (literal) taste of what the old man had for lunch and what medications he’s currently taking, and makes you wonder exactly how to say ‘Sir! Do not move another inch. Clap your cheeks down on that foul stench immediately!’ in Spanish without being misunderstood?
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Yeah. Happened to me once. Never happened to you?
Well, then…
You ever been on a train with a silent car? A silent car that you specifically booked a seat in because things like loud talking, small children, and cell phone usage are strictly prohibited? A silent car that you’ve been dying to park yourself in so you can rest your hot, hungover head against the cool, cool window and snooze a bit on the way back to your little town after a long weekend of the most turnt-up of turn-ups (aka, Carnaval in Cadiz)? A silent car whose silence is being disturbed by, of all things, a nun…talking…on a cell phone? At first, you feel a little bad at getting angry at a nun. Is that even allowed? But then all those Catholic school punishments come back to you and you think to yourself, “Oh, hell naw, Sister Mary. The rules apply to you too.” But instead of saying anything, you simply scowl in her direction and not-so-subtly snap a picture of her with your phone hoping that the power of shame will compel her.
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Still no? Damn, you should get out more.
Or… maybe I should stay put more.
But, it’s hard to stay put when I have this amazingly efficient and wide-reaching network of sleek chariots on iron rails to take me almost anywhere I can think of going in this country. As an American, I am not used to this type of convenience. Our national rail system is more of a quaint remnant of history than a currently viable utility. And the price of using the rail system in Spain is more than favorable. I often make use of Renfe’s SpainPass, a volume discount-type train ticket that’s only available to non-Spaniards. SpainPass allows you to take 4 or more medium- or long-distance train trips in a month for 40 euro or less per trip. Once I realized that with the money I make off of just a handful of private English lessons (link), I can afford to travel to 2 new cities each month, I was hooked. I’ve heard that Renfe has some pretty good student discounts, too. But, sadly (or gladly?), I aged out of those a long time ago. Even without discounts, many of the regular-price Renfe tickets are still in the 40 euro or less range, depending on the day and route of travel.
Of course there are so many other benefits to Spain train travel besides price. Trains offer:
More comfort and speed than a bus, and much less hassle than a plane
Less of the security hassle than at airports
Larger seats / more room
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No luggage restrictions
The chance to see the country and the geography up-close while on the move
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Free onboard entertainment (in the form of smelly old men, chatty nuns or in-transit movies)
So, Dear Reader, I encourage you to get out there more. Find a destination, buy a ticket, hop a train, and have an adventure.
Just remember to:
Always have your phone ready to snap a pic of a naughty nun
Always bring nose plugs or air spray in case of an unexpected abuelo ass-ault
Always know exactly where your train will be stopping, so you won’t inadvertently end up in Madrid having to buy another train ticket to get back to your intended destination.
5 of my favorite cities for street art
I am not one for museums when I travel. It’s not that I don’t like museums. It’s just that with limited time and lots of things to see and do on a trip, spending hours looking at old or odd things inside of a building doesn’t seem like the best time management strategy. Usually, I’ll save a museum visit for a second or third visit to a destination, or if I happen to stay in a single place for a long period of time.
Yet, even on a first trip or a short stay in a city, I like to get a feel for the culture and energy of the place – and viewing the work of local artists is a great way to do just that.
The Unexpected Value of Street Art
Street artists, in particular, often combine their art with a message that is highly relevant in their surroundings, their work can convey a sense of the politics of a particular area – what’s going on beneath the surface of the neighborhood or city you’re in. There’s also an ephemeral quality to street art that makes it more precious somehow. While a traditional work of art might show over and over again at a number of galleries, a piece of street art you see today may not be there tomorrow or next week.
Capturing street art – whether stumbling on works by accident or intentionally seeking them out – has led me down some of the most unexpected paths and into some of the best memories (and photos) during my travels.
Here are some of my favorite cities for capturing impressive works of street art:
London, England
Where to find street art in London:
About.com’s London street art walking tour (self-guided)
East London street art walk (self-guided)
Lisbon, Portugal
Where to find street art in Lisbon:
The Occasional Traveler’s Where to find street art in Lisbon
Cheeky Jaunt’s DIY Lisbon street art walk
Barcelona, Spain
Where to find street art in Barcelona:
15-euro Barcelona ‘history through graffiti’ walking tour
Malaga, Spain
Where to find street art in Málaga:
Berlin, Germany
Where to find street art in Berlin:
Original Free Alternative Berlin Tour
Are you a fan of street art? Where have you seen some great works of graffiti or street art during your travels?
Lisbon: 6 best things I ate
I really can’t say enough good things about Lisbon. It’s a city I love for many reasons, not the least of which is the delicious and inexpensive food that I ate while I was there. Here’s a rundown of the best food I ate in Lisbon:
Dorado dinner and wine at Cerqueira
A plate of fresh fried dorado steaks with all the fixings and a bottle of wine for under 10? Restaurant Cerqueira is worth the short but steep walk outside of the main tourist area of central Lisbon.
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Grilled sardines
The famed dish of Lisbon. I love fresh fish that’s simply prepared. These sardines were both fresh and simple, yet full of flavor.
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Pastel de Belem
Seductively creamy, subtly sweet, surrounded by a light flaky pastry and topped with an angelic dusting of cinnamon. The pastel de Belem begs to be eaten with a strong cup of espresso. Who am I kidding? It begs to be eaten whenever, wherever and with whatever.
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Salmon burger w/seaweed ‘slaw’ on choco ink bun
Once again, my love of fish was perfectly sated in Lisbon. At the Mercado da Ribeira this gourmet burger stand served up a grilled salmon patty on a bun tinted black with squid ink. Unbelievably good.
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Bacalao w/garbanzo puree
There were so many gourmet and well-priced food options in the Mercado da Ribeira’s dining hall, that my travelmate and I decided to split one (the salmon burger), so we could both have two dishes. My second – this perfectly cooked cod filet over a warm garbanzo spread was as delightful to eat as it was to look at. I’m pretty sure I embarrassed myself slightly via my inappropriate moans while eating this dish.
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Bifana
Just before leaving Lisbon, I stopped by Café Beira Gare, which is rumored to serve the best bifana in Lisbon. This deceptively simple pork sandwich had my mouth watering for hours after. It’s best accompanied by a cold Portuguese beer.
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Have you eaten your way through Lisbon yet? What are some your best food finds in Lisbon?
6 Secrets to Making the Perfect Spanish Tortilla
The tortilla española has to be Spain’s most iconic dish. It’s ubiquitous. There’s hardly any tapas bar or restaurant worth its salt in the whole of Iberia that doesn’t have it on the menu. It’s as Spanish as the hamburger is American. It is consumed for breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack, as a main, a side, a sacrament at the lowliest and holiest of occasions. At first, I didn’t understand it. I’d imagined Spain as some exalted culinary capital. After tasting the famed tortilla, I thought to myself,
Really? This is your trademark dish, España? Eggs, taters, and onions? And salt… is there even salt? I can’t tell.
But after months of eating tortillas in a variety of settings, I eventually grew to love the dish. Even if you never learn to do so yourself, it’s only a matter of time before you become intimately familiar with the sight, the smell, and the taste of it.
Over the past couple of years, I have seen and eaten Spanish tortillas at the beach, at backyard barbecues, birthday parties, school functions, botellon pre-games, and white-tablecloth restaurants. I even remember the tortilla getting a prominent mention on an episode of the popular Spanish sitcom, La Que Sea Vecina. In it, a spiteful Spanish mom was shooting down a girl who wanted to hook up with her son. After a string of put-downs, Mom dealt the final death blow:
“She can’t even cook a proper tortilla!”
The studio audience erupted in laughter.
So, Dear Reader, if you ever hope to impress your Spanish friends, or win that dashing Spanish beau, or simply avoid being laughed at by a make-believe studio audience, you’ll have to learn to whip out a proper Spanish tortilla. Here’s how.
6 Secrets for A Perfect Spanish Tortilla
1. Rough-cut the potatoes
I learned this secret in the home of my friend and fellow English teacher, Juana. Instead of slicing or chopping the potato into neat, evenly shaped cuts, she used her knife on the potato in a sort of cut-and-turn motion that released rough-edged, irregularly-shaped (though still similarly-sized) chunks of potato. The extra surface area and the cutting method allows the tater release a little more starch, which ultimately makes for a better mouthfeel and texture in the final product. Of course, you can slice them more uniformly as well, and still yield a favorable result.
2. Use a dedicated pan
If there’s any one secret that is essential to having your tortilla come out perfect every time, it’s this one. Keep one pan in your cabinet sacred, reserved only for tortillas and other egg cookery (and maybe pancakes and crepes). This pan does not have to be fancy or expensive, but it should be non-stick and it should never, ever be touched by utensils that can scratch or scrape its surface – so, no metal forks or spoons, only wooden, rubber or silicon spatulas and the like. Keeping your tortilla pan unmarred will ensure that your tortillas consistently slide out of the pan with ease and don’t stick to the sides and fall apart when you try to flip or serve them.
3. Let it rest
After cooking the potatoes and onion, draining off the oil and adding them to the beaten eggs, give the egg mixture a couple of quick stirs, and then… walk away. This is the perfect time to ready your non-stick skillet, get your plate out of the cupboard for flipping, and arrange the rest of your tortilla add-ins and seasonings. Letting the mixture rest allows the flavors to meld a bit, and helps the tortilla set properly when it's cooked.
4. Make it your own
There’s something to be said for simplicity. Sticking to the basic tortilla ingredients of potato and onion is perfectly fine, and honestly, recommended until you feel more comfortable with the cooking technique. But once you’ve mastered the process, it’s time to get creative. The first tortilla I had that strayed away from the tried-and-true ingredients was in Cadiz. An artisan shop in the central market there was serving tortillas with goat cheese and apricot marmalade. After tasting it, the rules of tortilla cookery changed forever for me. Since then, I’ve enjoyed adding in all kinds of ingredients to the basic tortilla, from spinach, to breakfast sausage to mushrooms. Basically, anything you might put in a quiche would also taste good in a tortilla.
5. Don’t fear the flip
Flipping the tortilla is the most intimidating part of the tortilla cooking process. But it shouldn’t be. As long as you approach this step with confidence, you’ll be fine. Be sure to use a plate that’s slightly larger than your pan. Invert the plate onto the pan and move the covered pan over to the sink. Use your left hand to keep the plate tight against the pan while you flip the pan over with your right hand. Lift the pan away from the plate. You should now have a tortilla on a plate in your left hand and an empty pan in your right. There may be a little spillage – that’s ok. Don’t sweat it. That’s why we came to the sink. Just slide that sucker back in the pan, return it to the stovetop, then rinse and wipe down the plate to get it ready for serving.
6. Know your preference
Do you like your tortilla jugosa – or, as a Manchego friend of mine would say, ‘cuando los huevos lloran’ – or cuajada? I’ve found that most people – Spaniards or no – tend to prefer their tortilla jugosa – or with the eggs still a bit runny on the inside. I, however, belong to the cuajada camp. I want that sucker to stay firm when I cut into it. Nothing ruins my day more than digging into a tasty slice of tortilla and ending up with a plate of room temperature yellow goo in front of me. Blecch.
[See that there? That’s called a very strong preference. It’s what most people have when it comes to their tortilla.]
Get to know your own preference and how to alter your cooking time to achieve the desired result. Practice making tortillas often. Hopefully, in the process, you’ll also become familiar with exactly how long you should cook your tortilla española to achieve the desired results of your friends and kitchen guests. So when your would-be Spanish mother-in-law comes over, and you whip out her version of the perfect tortilla without breaking a sweat, she'll know just how much of a tortilla master you are.
Have you perfected making Spanish tortillas in your kitchen? What secrets do you have to share?
Expat Problems: 6 stages of repatriation
Coming home after a period of time living abroad isn’t always easy. Things aren’t the same as you remember. You aren’t even the same. Finding your place again when everyone and everything has moved on can make readjusting to your new old life seem a little bit like learning to walk again. Plus there’s the emotional toll of leaving behind new friends and abandoning what had become your new normal. To make matters worse, unlike many other major life transitions, repatriation doesn’t always come with its fair share of support and understanding. The opportunity to live in a foreign country is often seen as just that – an opportunity. Something that you’re lucky or blessed to be able to do. On one hand, that’s true, but like any other self-initiated, out-of-the-norm endeavor (e.g., going back to school, changing careers, becoming a parent) it’s also a matter of sacrifice, risk and day-to-day struggle.
Yet, to friends and family back home (and thanks in part to that steady stream of stunning photos in exotic locales on your Facebook and Instagram feeds) you’ve been living on vacay for the past few months or years. And since 'coming back from vacation' isn’t exactly a struggle, you may be left to navigate re-entry back to 'the real world' on your own.
I’ve been through the repatriation process twice now – actually, you could say that I’m still going through it – and while I don’t claim to have the science of it all figured out, I felt compelled to share my own process of dealing with and ultimately triumphing over the repatriation blues.
6 Stages of Repatriation
Reverse Culture Shock
From the moment you step off the plane, everything about your home country seems familiar, but in an eerily unfamiliar way. It’s like you’re in The Truman Show or The Matrix. You recognize it all, yet it all seems just… a little… off. Things that you once took for granted as completely normal are now shocking, weird, amusing or maybe even offensive to you.
In my first two weeks back in the US, I had the following moments of reverse culture shock:
At the airport, waiting on my bags:
Why is everyone so fat and poorly dressed?
When greeting old and new friends:
Must remember to shake hands, NOT double-cheek kiss. I almost made out with that guy just now.
Shopping for groceries:
Gawd, it’s expensive here. I mean, $8 for a bottle of wine… and it’s not even good!?
Catching up on TV shows:
Seriously? Is EVERY commercial on TV for a prescription drug?
Getting behind the wheel for the first few times:
Wow. Atlanta drivers exhibit a LOT of aggression.
At any given moment on any given day:
This feels suspiciously comfortable. What is all this knowing where I’m going and understanding what everyone around me is talking about?
Even though seeing an old place through new eyes may initially be disorienting, eventually your vision adjusts and things begin to appear a bit more normal. It may take a while, but it will happen.
Mourning / Loss
Once the excitement of being home and the disorientation of reverse culture shock start to fade, a new feeling may settle in. It may come on as just a bit of a funk or it may swell into full-blown depression. For me, this stage was much like the aftermath of an amicable breakup.
At the start, it was all too raw and tender. I’d be prone to spontaneous outbursts of tears, complete with shaking my fists at the heavens wailing, “WHYYYYYYYYY!!!?? Why can’t we be together anymore? Why did I have to leave you so soon? We were just getting to know each other! Will I ever see you again?”
Even after the initial pain had dulled and I found myself only thinking of my long lost other home maybe once a day – I couldn’t bear to look at pictures of the place. The images brought back too many emotions, too much of that feeling of loss. I couldn’t stand to hear anyone else speak about my host country or talk about what they knew of my once-beloved. When others told of their trysts with my ex – whether good or bad – I’d invariably think to myself, “But you don’t know it like I do. You can’t possibly. It was mine! All mine!”
Melodramatic? Yes. But true nonetheless. The feeling of grief that I experienced on returning the US, I found out, was common for many returning expats. Expats interviewed by the Wall Street Journal described their own feelings of loss as: “a punch in the gut,” and, “like having somebody dying.” Though I didn’t know that my feelings were common, I did know that they’d have to pass eventually. I remembered an old rule-of-thumb I’d heard ages ago about how long it took to get over an old flame. According to this completely water-tight scientific rule, it takes one week per each month of the relationship to get over post-breakup heartbreak. I tried to use this as a point of solace as the days on the calendar crawled by.
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Comparison / Nostalgia
“It’s 11 o’clock here. If it were 11 o’clock there I’d be....”
“What I wouldn’t give for a churro or a cortado or some boquerones right now.”
“The eggs here are nothing like the ones I could get at the stores in Spain.”
“You know what I never had to worry about there? Mass shootings.”
This stage could be part of the mourning and loss stage or it could be a separate stage all its own. This is when you begin comparing even the smallest details of your daily life with your life in that other place. And invariably, your old life is always much, much better than your new life back home. Or, at least, that’s how you’re remembering it now.
Suddenly, all of the little things that used to absolutely irritate me about living in Spain were forgotten. I could only remember her virtues. While America, my home country, suddenly appeared to be riddled with flaws. In my mind, I was only verbally registering all these little humdrum things that I’d taken for granted while living in Spain, things that now had value since I no longer had them. But I’m sure I sounded like I was constantly kvetching. Either way, friends and family are likely to find you insufferable during this stage. Some may even let you know it.
Isolation / Withdrawal
You think nobody wants to listen, so you cut them off. You don’t go anywhere. You don’t speak to anyone. You’re starting to feel like you can’t talk about anything that happened to you in that other place. You think you’re only sharing tidbits about what’s been your daily life for the past months or years, but you know all other people hear is you bragging – yet again – about how awesome your time abroad was. Your friends all talk about what’s been going on in their worlds for the time you’ve been away. Parties they went to. Dates they’ve been on. Jokes they’ve shared. You don’t think they’re bragging. But you do feel like you keep walking in on the middle of a conversation where you have no idea what anyone’s talking about, yet you’re still expected to follow along. So instead of going out, you’d rather stay at home and Skype or Whatsapp with friends from that other place, or watch movies in your host country’s language. Or, if you’re lucky enough to know another former expat, you’ll only hang with them.
In small doses, a bit of isolation can be good. It gives you time to examine your own thoughts and feelings, take a break from the sensory overload and recharge your batteries. But too much isolation and withdrawal can be detrimental, so it’s important to keep up with regular social activities, even if it’s only with one or two close friends.
expat repatriation blues depression
Memorializing
You don’t want to forget or discard all those memories you made, the lessons you learned, all the beautiful people and places you saw during your expat life, but you know that you can’t keep living in the past. Sharing stories with friends isn’t going over like you expect it, so you begin to think of different ways to capture and honor your experiences. Creative projects like writing, scrapbooks, and films are good ways to preserve your travel experiences. Speaking engagements at local schools or clubs offer opportunities to share your travel stories to more receptive audiences. Even speaking with a therapist can be a much-needed outlet for your memories and emotions. The most important thing is that you find a suitable medium that lets you express the highs and lows of your expat experience in a way that can be appreciated over and over again, not forgotten.
Integrating
In the final stage, you recognize that you don’t have to completely abandon everything about your old life in order to adjust to your new life. You begin to adapt the things you gained from your expat experiences or things that you miss about your life in your former host country to new contexts and your new locale. For me, cooking has always been a passion. After my return from Spain, I began cooking more and new dishes in my kitchen – not just Spanish tortillas and paellas, but dishes I’d eaten at restaurants and in homes that were German, Ghanaian, Moroccan. After getting used to a daily bike commute in Spain, I began biking more upon my return to Atlanta. I noticed that I was now able to understand every single word of the Spanish conversations that I overheard when I was shopping at the farmer’s market or paying a visit to my favorite Mexican taquería. I was even unafraid to reply back in Spanish (something that used to make me nervous). I felt like I had gained a superpower! One that would allow me to engage with the world and its inhabitants in ways that I couldn’t have done before. All of a sudden, I started to feel less sad that I didn’t have Spain in my life anymore, I was simply grateful to have had it. For weeks, the lack of it was all I could think about, all I could focus on. Now it felt like a playful streak of color in my hair. Something that added just a little pop of interest to my backstory.
And in the end, that’s what each expat experience is. It’s an extra patch on your personal quilt, a new sworl in your uniquely patterned self. You have been irreversibly changed by it. And you will carry it with you always.
expat repatriation blues integrating
What was your experience returning home after living abroad? Did you find the transition challenging or did you have no difficulty at all adjusting to life back home? What helped you cope with the repatriation blues?
the cortado - my daily ritual
I can make a ritual out of almost anything. Perhaps it's my Catholic past. Maybe my inner bruja. No sé. Rituals help me mark the time. Moments. Hours. Days. Seasons. States of mind. They are asterisks on experiences. A reminder that I was a little more aware, more present in this moment. That I took the time to appreciate a gift - no matter how tiny - that was given me by god, nature, the universe. One of my daily rituals here in Spain is having a coffee. On the rough, cold winter days I had in the place we do not speak of, it was reason for me to get out of bed and drag myself across the chilled marble floor of my little piso. On others, it was impetus for me to get dressed, leave the house, and will myself to a nearby cafe where, hopefully (could today be the day?) I'd meet someone willing to strike up a friendly convo, but, usually, I'd just sit taking small comfort in both the sound of voices other than my own and the smile from the person behind the counter serving me my beverage. At other times, it's been my way of noting to self that this is the start of a new day, and I'm ready for it. In fact, I now have a saying: I haven't woken up until I've brushed my teeth, and I haven't started the day until I've had a coffee.
cortado-perfection-solo-in-spain
Early Adult Education
The cortado at the high school where I work is the best in town. Perhaps, the best in all of Spain; possibly, even, the known universe. But only when Emi, the lunch lady, makes it - not her husband. For some reason, he never steams the milk quite right, and the fluffy 'capa' that I love, is always missing when he makes it. I once intimated this to Emi. Now, when I enter I don't even have to order it anymore. As soon as she sees me, she starts pulling the shot and warming the milk.
emis-cortado-solo-in-spain
Sweet Sublimation
Adding the sugar is a subritual in itself, and can vary slightly depending on if the coffee is for wake up, post meal, or hangover treatment. For the first, about a third of the packet is sprinkled lightly on top of the foam; the resulting design appreciated before it submerges and disappears into the caffeinated depths of the cup. For the second, very little sugar is used. Sometimes, it's skipped altogether. For the last, a little more sugar is added after every sip, so that the final swallow is absent of any bitterness, and can be considered more sweet treat than am beverage.
cortado-love-solo-in-spain
(Im)patient Initiation
The perfect cortado is often elusive. But once you've had it, you'll never stop searching for it again. Anything less will seem like a huge letdown, a testament that the preparer is a novice or just completely out of touch with Spanish coffee culture. At my neighborhood coffee shop, they change and add new bar staff so often, that at least once a month, I find myself side-eyeing the new blood for serving up an inferior product. I have become part of their initiation. The old head notices either the confused look on the initiate's face when I order, or the dissatisfied slight scowl on mine when my drink is received. Oldhead rushes to instruct. "Es como un solo, pero con poca leche. Y te metes la leche enfrente de ella, hasta k ella te dice, 'Ya'." The noob attempts, presents. I taste. Of course, it isn't quite there yet. But. She'll learn. I'll be back again tomorrow for more practice. Yesterday, the new new girl was alone on her shift. No old head to guide her. Ok. Let's see whatcha got, dahlin. She doesn't do well. My cup is full of more not-quite-hot milk than coffee. The cup looks like it's full of very dirty dishwater. I return the beverage, apologetically explaining that that's too much milk for me (I'm going to the library next. Please. Think of the others.) She attempts again. It's better. But only slightly. I try to drink it, but the excess amount of milk starts to work on me almost instantly. I return the cup to her half full, pay and exit swiftly. I'm miffed. The superstitious part of me links a bad coffee to a bad day ahead.
Prophetic perfection
The following day, Saturday, I have work to do. I have no time for instruction. I ride slowly past my neighborhood bar to see who's working. It's new girl. Alone again. Not on today, sugah. I U-turn and head to a cafe in the town center. I rarely go there, because their prices are higher. But there's a reason for that. I order. A few moments later, perfection is placed before me. The beverage, a few shades darker than me, which lets me know that not too much milk has been added. A beautiful, fluffy cloud of steamed milk rests at the top of the cup, its bright white nucleus like a target that silently suggests, 'add sugar here'. I sigh delightedly. It's been too long. I savor each sip until the very last. At the finish, the last remnants of fluffy foam cling to the sides and bottom of the glass. Some people read tea leaves. Me? Coffee foam. I can see the future. It's going to be a great day.
cortado-reading-the-foam-solo-in-spain
How I Lost over 15 Pounds While Living in Spain (and Eating Everything!)
Wow! You look great!Hey skinny lady!
Who’s that in the picture?
It almost never fails. Every time I post a pic of myself on Facebook or some other social media outlet, these are the comments I get from friends and family back home. Since first moving to Spain for a 6-month stint in 2014, and after living here for almost another 8 months, I’ve lost quite a bit of weight. I’ve never been one to track my weight (scales, schmales), so I’m not exactly sure how much I’ve lost (that 15lbs in the title was really just a guesstimate); but I do know that not only have I dropped a couple of dress sizes, I also feel a lot better about my body – the way it looks, feels, and how it serves me as I go about my daily business. And get this: I’ve never once been to the gym.
Before I have you thinking that I’ve slimmed down to the point of having no body issues at all, let me tell you: I’ve still got quite a little pooch going on, I still have minor anxiety sporting a two-piece on a beach full of super-fit Europeans, and, at over 35 years old, I’ve got bits that are jiggling and swaying way more than they ever did (or should). Still, more often than not, I like what I see looking back at me when I look in the mirror, and I know for certain that it has a lot to do with abandoning my American eating and living habits and adopting a more Spanish or European lifestyle. Namely:
Smaller restaurant portions
Though I eat all the things I try to avoid when eating out at home – like taters, bread, and pasta – and I drink like there’s no tomorrow, I’ve still managed to shed pounds. Part of this is because the amount of these things that I consume in a sitting is much less than what I’d consume in the States. The US is notorious for its ridiculous portion sizes. If you order a meal for one in a typical US dining establishment, you’re usually presented with enough food for 2 people. Ditto for drinks – especially sodas and beers. Here in Spain, the tradition of tapas – or small plates of food that are meant to be eaten in a few bites – makes it easy to have a filling meal with lots of variety, yet not overeat. One of my favorite Spanish portion control options is the caña – which is basically a half-sized serving of beer. Even when I go out and have multiple rounds of beers, I’m still only drinking half as much as I would if I did the same in the States.
Several small meals a day
My typical daily eating pattern in Spain goes something like this…
For breakfast (before 11am): Coffee and/or water.
Post-breakfast / Pre-lunch (between 11am and 2pm): A piece of fruit or, occasionally, a small pastry or slice of Spanish tortilla.
For lunch (between 2 and 3pm): A quick, home-cooked meal like a pasta dish, a big salad, or a meat-and-veggie dish.
Post-lunch: A piece of fruit or two for an after-lunch dessert or snack.
For dinner (between 8 and 10pm): A couple of rounds of drinks and accompanying free tapas or another quick, home-cooked meal.
I’ve adopted this pattern of eating after observing and eventually falling in line with the way I’ve seen the folks around me eat. The concept of eating several small meals a day isn’t unique to Spain. In fact, most nutritionists and weight loss experts in the US recommend this method of eating. Still, it isn’t the norm for the average American. We’ve been indoctrinated with the idea that you should eat ‘3 square meals’ a day – a hearty breakfast, a hearty lunch, and an especially hearty dinner – and that’s pretty much how I used to eat back home (with the exception of the hearty breakfast). Here, lunch – not dinner – is often the biggest meal of the day, which leaves plenty of time to burn off the calories before settling in for the evening.
Lunch at home
You’ve probably heard of the Spanish siesta – that 2-3 hour lull in the middle of the day where everything shuts down and people go home to take a nap. While not everyone actually takes a nap during that time, almost everyone I know goes home for a home-cooked lunch. Having that large block of time to go home, prepare a healthy meal, eat it like a normal human (versus inhaling it like a vacuum cleaner), and let it digest a bit before heading back to work, is a luxury that I wish I had in the US. At home, I would barely have time to stuff some chicken fingers and fries (or a similarly unhealthy option) from the downstairs food court into my gullet before heading off to a meeting or rushing to meet an end-of-day deadline. Even on the days when I did go for a healthier lunch option, it was often more expensive to do so, and I’d end up resorting to the cheaper, less healthy lunch the very next day.
Coffee done right
Coffee is a known metabolism booster, and can help you burn extra calories IF you drink it the right way. What’s the right way? Well, ditching all the milk and sugar (I’m lookin’ at you, Starbucks), and drinking a small amount of black coffee or coffee with very little milk and sugar (like my beloved cortado) is a start. Also, it’s typical in Spain to have a coffee directly after or between meals, which is just when your body benefits from an extra boost of metabolism to help burn off the food you recently consumed.
Shared meals
In Spain, especially in smaller cities like the one I live in, eating is not a solo sport. Meals are meant to be shared – with friends, family members, coworkers, roommates. When you go out to eat with a group, it’s typical for everyone to share from common plates or to share bites of their individually ordered dish with everyone else at the table. At first, I turned my nose up at this practice. But… I want all my food for myself! But, I’m still hungry! But over time, I’ve adjusted. I’ve even noticed that the slower pace of eating in a group setting, helps me feel more full with less food. I’ve also noticed that Spaniards tend to share snack foods with folks around them. Whenever one of my colleagues has what we Americans would consider a single serving bag of chips or a similar snack, they always end up offering away at least a third of it to others, or eating about half and saving the rest for another time.
Walking
When I lived in the States, my work kept me sitting at a desk for multiple hours a day. After work, I’d walk 2 minutes to get in my car and drive home, where I’d often do more work sitting at a computer, before cooking dinner and watching TV or reading for a couple of hours before bed. Even if I ran errands in the neighborhood – like going to the grocery store that’s literally at the end of my street – it meant getting into my car and driving there. In the US, walking is often seen as a hardship or something that the less fortunate (i.e., those who can’t afford cars) do. The combination of a car-centric culture, and sprawling cities and neighborhoods, make walking for anything other than intentional exercise either unfashionable or implausible.
To put things in perspective, the entire country of Spain is smaller than the state of Texas (in square miles). The lack of sprawl makes walking a lot more feasible. Neighborhoods are designed so that you have almost everything you need within walking distance of your home – grocery stores, banks, schools, retail shops, personal services. And you’re not seen as odd or less fortunate if you walk everywhere, because almost everyone else – from infant to elderly – is walking too.
Water, water, everywhere
Because of all the walking I do, and because of a personal commitment to myself to consume more water, I almost always have a bottle of water on hand. I keep a 5L bottle of water in my room by my bedside, so I can not only track roughly how much water I drink a day, but also so I never have to go far to get it.
Biking
This is probably the single most influential factor in my weight loss. At the beginning of this school year, one of the professors at my high school was kind enough to loan me a bike to use during my time here. It just so happens that this bike is the oldest specimen of 2-wheeled locomotion ever known to man. It’s also a fixed gear, and it can leave my legs feeling like jelly even when riding on relatively flat terrain. Still, it’s a more efficient mode of transportation than walking, and I ride my rusty steed everywhere – to school, to the grocery store, to the park, to the library. I usually spend around 30-40 minutes biking each day, which isn’t a lot, but it’s definitely made a lot of difference.
Easy access to healthy, cheap ingredients
Within a 3-5 minute walk in any direction from my apartment, I have a least 4 independently owned fresh fruit/veggie stands, and 2-3 chain grocery stores. The selection of produce in either of those outlets is generally less varied than what I’d find in the US, but the price and the quality is significantly better. And the fact that they’re so close and right in front of my face, makes it easier for me to grab a healthy snack versus the fast food that I’d normally go for back home.
Fast food as an occasional treat
In the US, fast food is convenience food. Don’t have time to cook? Forgot to pack a healthy lunch? No problem. Just stop by one of the dozen fast food restaurants you’re sure to pass on your way to and from home and pick up an extremely high-calorie, extremely low cost meal. Fast food is so widely available and frequently consumed in the US, it could almost be considered its own food group. While I wasn’t a frequent consumer of fast food at home, I certainly ate my fair share of quick-serve lunches at work, and my go-to snack when on the run was an order of french fries from the nearest Chik-Fil-A or McDonald’s. Here, a trip to a fast food outlet is seen as a treat – something you do every once in a while as a special outing for the kids or yourself. And the prices reflect that. Going to Mickey D’s, KFC or Burger King is often an expensive proposition – a combo meal can run from 5 to 7 euros, and there’s rarely, if ever, a dollar menu. There are also fewer fast food locations to choose from. You almost have to go out of your way to get to one, and you’ll have to pass several cheaper, considerably healthier options to do so.
Now, are any of the above behaviors impossible to duplicate in the US? Absolutely not. Am I suggesting that there are no overweight or obese Spaniards? Nope. In either country, individual health and body weight are often a reflection of the daily lifestyle choices we make. But due to cultural norms, I think it’s more difficult to make these choices and stick to them on a regular basis back home in the US of A. As my time in Spain comes to an end, I often worry if I’ll be able to hold on to these healthy habits that I’ve picked up in my host country. I like to think that it’ll be easy, but I’m not 100% sure. For my own sake, and for the sake of my Facebook photo admirers, I certainly hope so. :)
Have you noticed any positive body changes during your travels or time living abroad? What do you think was behind it? Have you been able to stick to your healthy habits after returning to your home country?
Share your feedback in the comments!
Traveling Solo: What to Do When Everything Goes Wrong
Oh, f**k. I am literally stuck in Portugal. My heart rate quickened a few paces. I hadn’t really allowed myself to think that the worst possible scenario would happen, so now that it was in fact happening, I found myself momentarily bewildered. I’d made the foolish mistake of traveling to Portugal without my passport, but since I’d gotten lucky on the flight out of Spain, I thought my luck might hold out for the return trip. It didn’t. After trying other alternatives (presenting a copy of my passport, then my Spanish resident ID) that were refused by the airline agent, it became clear that I was not getting on this flight.
My brain began slowly filling with a thousand thoughts:
Shit.
Um. Ok. What the hell are you going to do now?
This can’t be happening.
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod
What if I can’t get out of here? What if I’m stuck in this airport for months or years like that one movie with Tom Hanks?
How could I be so stupid!?
Shit!
This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Why do bad things always happen to me?
Jesus Christ, I’m sooo stupid!!
I just wanna go home.
*Eyes starting to well up with tears*
If you travel often enough, eventually it will happen. The worst possible scenario. You find yourself stuck in the middle of nowhere. You missed your flight. The hotel booking fell through. You’re lost in an unfamiliar place where you don’t speak the language. Or worse yet, you’ve been pickpocketed or injured.
While I haven’t had any serious travel emergencies yet (knock on wood), I’ve definitely found myself in a pickle more than once while travelling – most recently on a solo trip back to Spain from Portugal. What I’ve learned from these travel blunders is that the best and quickest way out of them is to… keep calm and carry on.
you could panic. but what good would that do?
Don’t Panic (Ok, panic. But make it brief.)
After realizing that my pleading with the airline agent was useless, I found a bench to sit on, and let the reality of the situation settle in a bit. I tried to tame my wildly racing thoughts as best I could (repeating over and over to myself, ‘It’s going to be ok. It’s going to be ok.’). Suddenly, a calming piece of advice that a friend of mine once said to me popped up in my mind: ‘Every problem has at least 5 solutions’.
Slowly, I felt the panic begin to subside and a steely resolve take its place. After a few more moments, I went to the bathroom, washed my face, fixed my hair, and touched up my makeup. Then, I set to work.
escape-from-portugal-oporto-airport
Gather Your Tools
I knew I would need to rely heavily on my cell phone, so I checked the battery. It was about half full. I started scouting out the airport terminal for power outlets. Then, checked to see if there was free Wi-fi at the airport. No luck. Fortunately, my cell phone data plan worked, and the signal was strong.
Once you’ve calmed yourself down, take inventory of what you’ve got to help you get out of this situation - cell phone, map, GPS, snacks, the phone number of ‘a guy who knows a guy’. Use whatever you’ve got within reach to help you get yourself out of this predicament or weather the storm until you do.
Using travel tools proactively can also be a big help in case of a travel mishap. For example, take pics of your hotel, the hotel stationery, or the street you’re staying on in case you get lost and can’t communicate where you need to go. Save emergency contact info into a notes app on your phone. Save text versions of walking directions to/from your hotel on your phone to use in case you can’t access GPS. Download maps that are accessible offline. Download travel apps you can use to book last-minute flights and hotels and find bus and train schedules.
Brainstorm & Prioritize Your Options
What’s the thing that needs to happen first? What’s most important right now? What’s the fastest, most efficient way to get that thing done?
My 3 main options were: Getting on another flight, finding a place to stay, or finding another mode of transportation to get back to Spain.
After a quick search online for other flights, I ruled out that option. Even if I could get past security for another airline (sans passport), the cost of the flight would be ridiculous. Since I was already out of the money from the lost flight, I didn’t want to pay more than I needed to.
My next best bet was finding an alternative way out. Lastly, I’d look for a place to crash, if finding a way out took longer than I hoped.
Be Resourceful – Know Where to Go for Info or Help
Thankfully, I had apps for Renfe – Spain’s railway system, BlaBlaCar, and Skyscanner on my phone, and I’d bookmarked the site for Portugal’s railway system. I used Google to search for buses going between Portugal and Spain. In under an hour, I’d found info on the next trains, buses, and rideshares going to Madrid. But online bus information can often be out of date, so I ended up consulting with both an airport security guard and the airport tourist info office to make sure the info I’d found online was correct (turns out, it wasn’t). Since there was nothing leaving until the next day, I used my handy AirBnB and Booking.com apps to look for a cheap place to stay in the meantime.
Having the right info at hand during a travel emergency makes all the difference, and knowing where to go to find it is essential. In my case, I relied heavily on online travel tools. But the people around you can also be excellent sources of help and information. Information desks or tourist offices are available in most large cities. Bus drivers and taxi drivers are great for helping you find your way – they know the area well. Hotel concierges and desk staff, security guards and police officers, store workers in commercial areas – not only are all of these people good sources of ‘official’ info, they’re also more likely to speak English than a random person on the street.
Think Positively
Even if you do everything you should do in a travel emergency, there’s no guarantee that you’ll get out of the situation quickly. No matter what happens, though, keeping a positive mindset and being able to laugh at yourself will help you make the best of a bad situation.
In the end, it took a few hours of searching for and confirming transport and lodging, an overnight stay at a cheap but centrally located AirBnB room (15 euros), and a 5-hour BlaBlaCar ride (30 euros) the next day from Oporto to Madrid. During that time, I encountered some rude and unhelpful people, took a walk through what – at first glance – looked like a sketchy area, and suffered a late-night bout of gastrointestinal distress. I tried to view the whole ordeal as a comical adventure, which kept me from getting too riled up or freaked out, even though there were several times when I wanted to do both. In the end, I made it out of a sticky situation without too much incident, feeling like I earned a merit badge in the process. And a ridiculously hilarious travel story to boot.
did i ever tell you about that one time when i smuggled myself into spain from portugal? fun times.
Have you ever experienced an embarrassing travel mishap or stressful travel emergency? How did you make it out alive? Share your experience in the comments!
how to cope when you hate your host country
Living in a different country isn't always sunshine and roses. Sometimes the experience is a complete emotional rollercoaster. One moment, you're all thrilled and tickled with the newness of it all - the sights and sounds, the new people you're meeting, all the fun you're having. The next moment, something happens that throws you for a loop, knocks you on your ass, and literally leaves you cursing the ground you stand on. Most times, though, the good experiences outweigh the bad, and the bad experiences just turn into funny stories that you share with friends over drinks. But sometimes, the bad feelings don't just blow over. Sometimes everything about your host country works your last effing nerve. Sometimes the potent combination of: being isolated from family and friends, not speaking the language, confusing cultural differences, climactic anomalies and missing 'normal' food becomes way too much to bear. And as the days and weeks pass without any sign of your situation improving, you find yourself seriously wondering if you should just call it quits, pack up and go back home where you belong.
Since I've actually experienced the scenario above (and talked myself out of a one-way plane ticket home), I thought I'd share some suggestions for dealing with the post-honeymoon phase; or, as i like to call it: 'a survival guide for expats who've considered repatriation when the novelty wasn't enuf'.
7 Ways to Cope When You Hate Your Host Country
Don’t lash out
Often, the reception you get from the locals in your host country can feel less than hospitable. It can be tempting and sometimes, warranted, to fight fire with fire, picking a fight with anyone who rubs you the wrong way. Fighting the good fight day in and day out, however, quickly becomes exhausting. You're constantly on edge, waiting for the next person to 'make your day'. You'll end up wearing yourself down long before you wear them down. My advice: even if you’re getting bad energy from people, resist the urge to give it back. At least not too harshly. In short, throwing shade is cool. Throwing epithets and punches, not so much.
Don’t clam up
I get it. You hate the place, so obviously you want to limit your exposure to it. But becoming a recluse solves nothing. Find places that you enjoy going to - bookstores, cafes, parks, libraries, movie theaters - and make it a regular habit to visit them. If you haven't found your social group yet and feel shy about going out alone, go to restaurants and bars during off-peak hours, when you're less likely to be surrounded by couples and families. Sign up for a class or join a gym. If you do end up taking some time to be a recluse, that's ok. Just try not to let it linger for too long.
Take a step back
Remove yourself as a participant in the daily expat struggles that you encounter. Become an observer instead. Imagine that you are there to explore, compare, and document, as an anthropologist, journalist, artist, historian. Treat this experience as your work or project. Approach your time abroad this way and you’ll be less likely to get emotionally riled when frustrating things happen. Even if you do get riled, at least you’ll have a productive outlet for your emotions.
Stay connected
Stay in touch with people back home. Especially those who are good listeners, or make you laugh. Join online groups or communities (some of my faves: Black Americans Living Abroad
Solo Women Travelers, Bellas Morenas de Espana), where you can share with other people who can relate to the experiences you're going through. Look for local gatherings or groups to join - especially those where you're likely to find other expats. Check Couchsurfing, and Meetup.com to see if there are active groups in your area.
Plug in
I'm not usually an advocate of binge-watching tv, but as an expat, it may not be as easy or feasible (due to language barriers or telecommunications issues) to watch your favorite programs from back home. Scheduling time to catch up is a good distraction from expat woes.
Travel
Maybe it’s your city or region that doesn't agree with you? Explore other parts of the country, or find cheap ways to travel to nearby countries.
Get a job
Occupy your time? Make money? This one's a no brainer. Find side jobs based in your home country that you can do remotely from your host country. Check Craigslist, ODesk, and other freelance job sites for opportunities. Giving private English lessons is another good money-making option that works for almost anyone, since native speakers are usually highly prized non-English-speaking countries.
Remember the reason
Why’d you want to move to another country in the first place? Is that reason still valid? Have you strayed from your original goal? Do you need to set a new goal to help motivate you?
What are some ways that you've battled the expat blues? How do you know when it's time to throw in the towel and head back home? Share your thoughts in the comments!
spanish word of the day: cojones
The things you learn on roadtrips. On a recent one with some Spanish friends, I learned just how important cojones are to Spanish people.
It happened just after we passed Toledo heading southbound. Tio Pepe blurted out from the back seat, "Tocame los cojones! Que me voy a Bargas! Y si no me los toca... a Menasalbas!"
Hwhhaaaaat?
While my three Spanish compadres were laughing among themselves, I was once again left scratching my head at some vulgar Spanish expression whose meaning completely escaped me.From what I could gather from Pepe's explanation, the expression had something to do with two towns we'd passed - Bargas and Menasalbas - south of Toledo. I'd never heard of those towns before, but I'd heard plenty of expressions using that oh-so-familiar Spanish word for testicles.
"Spanish people talk about cojones a lot," I intimated to my friends.
They all agreed. Eager to impress upon me just how essential cojones are to Castellano, my travel companions took the opportunity to school me on several uses and variants of the word. And I took notes. Here are some of my favorites:
que cojones...? - used as part of a rhetorical question, as in, 'que cojones es esto (what the hell is this)?
pero-que-cojones
hasta los cojones - (to have had it) up to here; to be fed up. Literal translation: up to the balls.
acojonante - fabulous, amazing.
vas como los cojones de los galgos - used when someone lags behind. A galgo is a Spanish greyound. Approximate translation: you're moving like greyhounds' balls.
Galgo_Español_en_la_arena
par de cojones - when someone is brave or fearless they are said to have a par de cojones or to have done something con dos cojones. Literal translation: a pair of balls.
con-dos-cojones
cojonudo - awesome, amazing, great
cojonazos (aka, huevasos) - guy who is henpecked, or a guy who sits around 'tocando sus cojones' (touching his balls / doing nothing) all day.
un cojon - a whole lot. (e.g., 'te quiero un cojon')
mil pares de cojones - with a lot of force, effort, or difficult. Literal translation: A thousand pairs of balls.
And that's just a short list. Turns out there are dozens more uses for the word cojones in Spain. Which means that cojones could quite possibly be the most versatile word ever.
how to do lisbon: learn how to say thank you in portuguese
I love the sound of Portuguese. As soon as I slid into my seat on the plane from Madrid to Lisbon, I couldn't help but smile. Portuguese swirled around me, sounding like a hybrid of Italian and Spanish spoken with lilting intonations that lulled me to calm.
Despite it being a big city, Lisbon's residents were never too busy to engage in a small bit of conversation, and always seemed quite friendly and willing to help - especially if you tried to speak even the smallest bit of Portuguese.
To show appreciation for their hospitality, the great food, perfect weather, and the affordability of it all - learning how to give a heartfelt thanks in Portugese was the least I could do.
Learn More Useful Portuguese Phrases
how to do lisbon: have a bifana
While the bifana didn't originate in Lisbon (that credit goes to the town of Vendas Novas), the snack is strongly associated with Portugal's capital city. The bifana consists of a juicy stack of thinly sliced pork layered on fresh, soft yet crusty bread. Sounds simple, but the unseen effort and just-right ingredients are what make this sandwich sublime.The pork is slow-simmered in a seasoned marinade. The bread is pillowy inside and just crackly enough outside. When the sandwich comes together, the juices from the meat seep into the bread, staining it with flavor. Served along with a helping of mustard that you can add as you please, the bifana is a deliciously indulgent snack that you can only experience in Portugal.
how to do lisbon: take a day trip to sintra or cascais
Two of Lisbon's most popular options for day trips are Cascais - a beach resort town - and Sintra - a historic village known for its old castles. Both cities are only about an hour away using Lisbon suburban rail line, Comboios. I chose to visit the quaint and charming Sintra and its majestically quirky storybook castle. There's an admission fee to enter the castle grounds and the castle's terraces - but I think it's worth it to get an up close look at such a colorful spectacle perched high among the clouds. Of course, you'll have to share the view with lots of other visitors and photo-snappers.
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Exploring the town center with its lush gardens, outdoor art installations, and tiny shops and bars is a must either before or after visiting the castle.
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If a leisurely day at the beach followed by gazing and shopping at cute boutiques is more up your alley, Cascais is the better option. But, why choose? If you have the time, visit both.
Lisbon to Sintra - How to Get There, What to See
Lisbon to Cascais - How to Get There, Where to Eat, What to See
how to do lisbon: see the monuments in belem
Belem - located in the southwest corner of Lisbon - is a perfect place to spend a leisurely, sunny afternoon. Some of the most iconic monuments of Lisbon are found here, namely The Jeronimo Monastery, The Monumento do Descubrimento, and the Torre de Belem.My advice is to take your time strolling through the area. Stop to people watch in the park in front of the Jeronimo Monastery. Soak up some sun at the edge of the river next to the Monumento de Descubrimento. Have a gelato before walking over to Belem Park and stretching out in the shade of a tree for a while.
Perhaps the most famous 'monument' in Belem is the beloved Portugese pastry, pastel de Belem. This creamy, custardy tart can be found all over Lisbon and throughout the rest of Portugal (where it goes by the name, pastel de nata), but its birthplace is Belem. Its best enjoyed with a liberal sprinkling of cinnamon on top. So good.
how to do lisbon: sample portugese cuisine at mercado da ribeira
I love myself a good market. And Lisbon has plenty to choose from. After reviewing a list of the best markets in Lisbon, I decided to try the Mercado da Ribeira - mainly because it offered both fresh foods and a selection of restaurants to eat in. I had no idea what I was in for when I arrived. The fresh food market was good, not great - even though I was able to score some okra (YAAY!!).
mercado da ribeira
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fresh market
But the real draw at the Mercado da Ribeira is the jaw-dropping selection of gourmet restaurant and food stalls on the opposite side of the building. There were stalls offering asian noodles, gourmet burgers, whole roast pig, craft beer and cider, and several with updated takes on traditional Portugese cuisine. DO go here on an empty stomach. The quality and creativity of the offerings were top notch. The prices, however, were unbelievably reasonable.
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roasted bacalao with garbanzo puree
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salmon burger w/seaweed salad on squid ink bun
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whole roast suckling pig
Diners sit at communal tables in the center of the market. Since the Mercado da Ribeira is a popular spot for locals and visitors, I found myself chatting - and even sharing a few bites - with diners from 3 different countries.
how to do lisbon: use the metro
The Lisbon metro is modern, efficient, and pretty easy to use. The only hiccup I experienced was when I first arrived at the airport and couldn't figure which direction to head in.
waiting on the Comboios suburban train from Belem to the city center
The metro goes to all of the neighborhoods and points of interest in central Lisbon. A reloadable, multi-trip card can be purchased and refilled at machines in every station. One of the best things about Lisbon's public transportation system is that you can use the same multi-trip card on the underground metro, above-ground trams, trolleys and buses, and the suburban trains that go all the way to Cascais and Sintra.
For long-distance destinations like Coimbra and Porto, you'll have to purchase a separate ticket for one of the regional or inter-regional trains that depart from Santa Apolonia Station.
regional train at Santa Apolonia Station in Lisbon
Official Lisbon Metro Site - Fares, Maps, and Trip Planner
Lisbon Comboios Site - for Medium to Long-Distance Trips Outside of Lisbon
tapa of the week: el tio pepe, valladolid
On a cloudy, chilly Saturday afternoon in Valladolid, one of my travel companions - let's just call him, 'Tio Pedro' - suggested we stop into a bar for a quick drink and a tapa.
Tio Pepe (No, the irony was not lost on me) is a fairly nondescript-looking bar in an equally nondescript neighborhood - in fact, my host repeatedly referred to the area asthe 'Queens' of Valladolid. But the tapas on hand at this unassuming bar are an unexpected treat for the senses.
On display under a glass case that spans the length of the bar, is an array of tempting bite-sized delights that look as good as they taste.
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My travel mates and I started off with a glass of Cigales - a rosé wine from Castilla y Leon that's effervescent and smooth, but not overly sweet.
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Next came our shared tapas:
Chipirones (or baby squid) 'hamburger' - a slider-sized sandwich served on a squid ink bun...
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tiny baby squid on tiny baby sandwich
...And tosta con jamon y setas. A salty, savory bite of thinly sliced jamon topped with a portion of fried wild mushroom, roasted pepper and garlic. Um. YES.
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I sometimes forget that there's more to tapas than just getting a free bite with a drink. There are tapas out there that are intriguing and creative; tapas that make you feel like it was worth spending your money on. Thankfully, Tio Pepe reminded me of that, and also showed me that great tapas don't have to be accompanied by a lot of frills and fuss.
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Bar El Tio Pepe
Calle Embajadores, 54, Valladolid
Average Price : We paid 8 euro for 3 wines and 3 tapas. An unbelievable bargain.
My Rating: A low-key neighborhood tapas bar with surprisingly high-quality selections.
how to do lisbon: people watch at the port
At the south end of Rua Augusta is the Port of Lisbon which overlooks the river Douro, and provides a spectacular view of the April 25 bridge. The large adjacent plaza and the riverside promenade produce an endless parade of locals, tourists, and street vendors. Grab a table on the terrace at one of the nearby cafes, or cop a squat on the wall ledge at the edge of the river to soak it all in.
port of lisbon
Once you've gotten your fill of gazing at the passersby, head up the Rua Augusta, browsing the shops and street performers, before heading over to have a look at the Santa Justa Elevator. Push on a little further, and you'll run into Rossio Square, with its picturesque fountains and always lively pedestrian scene. The nearby Rossio train station is worth a peek for its uniquely designed facade. A hint: It looks even better at night.
rua augusta
fountain - rossio square
santa justa elevator
rossio station