Lo siento, no hablo Espanol :(

My mantra. My refrain. My go-to phrase whenever I am not home. It’s so rote now it’s almost a lie. I can speak Spanish well enough to tell people I am an American (Soy Americana), and I cannot speak Spanish.

Life goes on. Our household goods might leave the US this week on their months-long journey to us. Might. Hopefully, by summer, we will have our stuff. We have internet again now, after being down 11 days and with nearly no help, despite a person being paid expressly TO help us. She kept telling us to call the internet company. Phone calls, not texts that I can manually type into Google Translate, not emails that automatically translate, not even an online form that Chrome can translate. Nope, just phone calls. No other way to do it. “Just call them.”

Lo siento, no hablo Espanol!

Thankfully, finally, we have reached a calmer point in our “settling in” that everyone keeps asking about.

“How are you settling in?”

“Well we’ve been down with no internet for a week and a half, Kelly is working off her mobile hot spot every day from home and racking up a fortune in data fees but we can’t view our bill because the 2factorAuth code to register online for the account goes to a German consultant who won’t write us back, we can’t get anyone to help us with it who speaks English, our water intermittently gets shut off with no warning every week, usually while in the shower or doing dishes, our 60 amp main breaker trips if we run the dishwasher and the dryer at the same time, and we’re about to run out of hot water and heating because the oil that runs the water heater is very low and it’s going to cost about 700.00 USD to fill it just halfway and it’s in the 30s at night here still. HOW ARE YOU DOING.”

Settling in, though, yes. The power has been upgraded. Internet is back. We get more fuel for the water heater in two days. We have given up entirely on the consultant and are doing everything ourselves now with Google Translate.

Celia

This morning, I woke up to a golden sky, golden air, golden dust all over everything. A sandstorm from the Sahara called Storm Celia blew over the country last night and brought us a thick, widespread coating of orange sand. Worst sandstorm in decades, the news says. I didn’t even know that happened here. Our little VW Golf is so dirty it’s undriveable. The magical golden hour, but all day. I thought it was pollen from the almond trees. No, a massive Saharan dust storm.

Another day in Spain.

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