Four Months

Last Friday, I finally got my NIE, a small piece of semi-laminated paper that confirms I’m a resident of Spain. What’s the big deal? Free healthcare. But it’s also symbolic, proof that I’ve officially sunk my roots into Spanish soil.

Four months ago, I had just landed in Madrid. I stood out as a blue-eyed American foreigner, but mostly because I hardly knew one word in Spanish. Now, I speak Spanish, I make a standard Spanish salary, and I live with Spanish roommates. I play volleyball on weekends with a team of girls from the suburbs of Madrid. I drink way too much wine and probably eat too much cheese. And Siri still too often replies “no entiendo. Puede repetir?

It’s clearly not so easy as the glamorized facebook photos would like to make you believe. Follow me as I work my way backwards to figure out how I got here…

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