1.) When you venture into the bowels of Spanish bureaucracy, you lose.
Getting my foreign identity card was the disasterous, mindblowingly inefficient process I was warned it could be. The workers were incompetent, and the "rules" were nonexistent at worst and fluid at best.
We Americans were each given different "official" forms to fill out. The workers told us it was OK we all had different ones because it didn't really matter anyway. Some of us were told we needed to get a verification from the town hall that proved we did, in fact, live where we said we did. Some of us weren't told that. I was told twice that I needed three passport-sized photos. Ultimately, I needed two.
But the kicker was when my American friend told me that her American friend had gone to the station, and a worker told her that "she and her friends" needed to bring in a copy of every page of our passports. Is that really a bit of information that should be given to someone I don't know and then spread through the grapevine?
If you don't believe me, watch this hilarious-but-sad-because-it's-so-true video about Spanish red tape.
2.) The travel gods like me.
I arrived at the airport in Mallorca at 6 a.m. for a 6:25 departure. And they let me on the plane with only a minor "you should really be earlier next time" scolding. I have twice had mishaps with trains in Merida, a city more than 30 miles from Don Benito. And twice, the train company paid for me to take a taxi from the Merida area to Don Benito. No official form asking for my name or an explanation of the situation. No money out of my pocket.
3.) Don't speak too soon.
I wrote this post and saved it as a draft. Then I went back to Mallorca and got my iPhone 4S and my wallet (with that hard-won foreign identity card inside) stolen.
4.) If you're going to get robbed, don't let it happen in Spain.
Because replacing a stolen phone, canceling bank cards, dealing with police and applying for new identification is best done in your native language.
5.) Always carry coins.
Spaniards really, really prefer not to have to make change.
6.) In Spain, you arrive late, leave late, plan late, stay out late, eat late, wake up late, be late.
Puncuality just isn't a big deal. I think you can tell that from #2.
In Spain, lunch at noon is blasphemous. Going to the club before 2 a.m. is social suicide. Waking up at 10 a.m. on a Sunday is absurd. And being early is sooo foreign.
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It's a ghost town around here between 2 and 5 p.m. Don't plan for midday productivity.
8.) "Customer service" is more like, "Wouldn't it be better for both of us if you just did this yourself?"
One day at the bus ticket window, the worker was on a personal call. I waited a few minutes, growing evermore impatient. Then I enlisted the classic American/British foot-tapping tactic. All in vain. Then she pulled out a tin of orange tobacco and started ROLLING CIGARETTES while I waited there.
A different day, I was having beers with my roommate, and I asked for the bill. Ten or 15 minutes later, I still hadn't gotten it. Then the waitress came out, sat down at the table across the way and had a beer with some friends.
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| I laugh only because it makes me cringe at the same time. Source |
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Shout out to #4 up there.
My 10:15 a.m. bus to work showed up at 11 o'clock once, without explanation. It generally rolls into the station around 10:30. Not once have I been in a plane, train or automobile in Spain that left on time, which has led me to change my arrival approach. I generally add about five minutes to established departure times and show up then. Turning up seven minutes late would be moderately risky, but three minutes would leave me with too much spare waiting time.
10.) Spain is a time warp.
Where did the past 5 1/2 months go?
11.) You can send used underwear to Spain, but don't try to send new ones.
Or detergent to launder them. If you send anything new from the U.S. to Spain (you can send used items without issue), you risk having it detained in customs in Madrid. They can slap you with hefty import and sales taxes on the goods and then charge freight costs to send the goods to their final destination (even though you already paid for them to be sent to their final destination).
I didn't actually learn this lesson from a shipment of underwear, but it makes for a more sensory example, eh?
12.) There are five requisite words/phrases to rock at Spain Spanish.
Dime - literally means "tell me." This is an acceptable greeting on the phone and at customer service counters.
Vale - means "OK."
Venga - generally means "c'mon" but can also be used as a sort of "ok" or "yeah, right."
Vamos - generally means "let's go" but can also mean "enough already."
No pasa nada - means "it's OK," "everything's all right," "don't worry about it" or "no problem."
13.) It is possible to have an entire phone conversation using the terms listed above.
I've heard it done.
14.) When out and about, it's not ideal to go more than a few hours without a coffee or small beer.
That's just the Spanish way. It's as much about rest and refreshment as it is about socializing and seizing the day.
15.) Sharing is caring.
Be careful with what I like to call the "American food and drink faux pas." If you're buying something at the coffee vending machine in the teachers' lounge, you should offer to buy coffee for everyone in the room. (I learned that one in the teachers' lounge after seeming like a real American you-know-what for months.)
And if you go out for dinner with Spaniards, and you order the cheapest platter while your friend gets the most expensive one, the bill often gets split evenly in the end. (That's assuming they actually let everyone order individually instead of ordering a few plates and sharing it all, which is what I often see.)
16.) So just order the big beer and some filet mignon and see what happens.
Because that's the best way to cheat the system.
| This might be overkill. Source |
I may complain about inaccurate timetables and the siesta. And sure, I inject a lot of sarcasm into my posts because I really do see some things that are just outright ridiculous, in my opinion. But I've chosen to live here. I've chosen to subject myself to inefficient public transportation and mindblowing bureaucracy so that I can bask in the general gloriousness that is my life in Spain.
And you know what? I´m having the time of my life. I love Spain, Spanish and the Spanish people. And I don't regret a thing.
Un saludo,
Teresa
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