After spending Holy Week in Seville and Madrid this past April, the thought of moving to Spain crossed our minds. We couldn’t help but notice the many similarities between our cultures and traditions. It brought back memories of growing up during a time when Spanish influences in the Philippines were still much more evident. We laughed every time we managed to get by with a few Spanish phrases and regretted not taking our two years of Spanish classes at the University of Santo Tomas more seriously.
Although it was our fourth time in Spain, the past trips were nothing but just a glimpse, not immersion.
After two weeks of religious experience, we somehow felt like we blended in. Feel na feel namin na matangos rin ang ilong namin at maputi rin kami. We found the Spaniards to be generally warm and approachable. We never felt discriminated against because of our race. They were welcoming—- not overly friendly, but certainly not aloof, and not calculating.
We planned to return to Spain next year to experience even more of what the country has to offer. We want to attend another major festival in Valencia, celebrate Holy Week in Málaga, experience the Running of the Bulls during the San Fermín Festival in Pamplona, go on a food crawl in Bilbao, play golf in San Sebastián, and explore other regions along the way.
More than anything, we want to see where we’d be most comfortable living— pakain kain, idlip – tulog, pasyal pasyal, chill chill.
(video clip from Diario AS)
We could easily imagine ourselves living there for six months each year over the next two or three years. Not to work or start a business, but simply to slow down, take life at a gentler pace, and immerse ourselves in the beauty of Spain. To spend a couple of years living quietly, incognito, and savoring the simple rhythm of everyday life.
For now, though, our “moving to Spain” plan will have to take a back seat. We have several major milestones coming up in our growing family, so our priorities are elsewhere. But if you ask my husband, he still very much wants to pursue it. The logistics, however, are another story.
In fact, he has even floated the idea of bringing Theo and Dylan with us so they could study there, become habla Español, and grow up with a European upbringing. Para daw European-bred (parang horse). I told him the parents would not agree.
This reminds me. When I was in college, my Kuya Lito told my parents and me that he’d send me to Spain to study. But that never happened. Don’t ask me why. My brother probably forgot a promise he made, and it got buried among his many promises.
Studying in Spain could have changed the course of my life in ways no one can predict. Or it might simply have become one interesting chapter. But even though it never happened, I don’t dwell on the life that might have been. I don’t spend time imagining an alternate version of my life. Things unfolded differently, and that’s the life I’ve lived.
Oh, it’s not yet too late. I’m still alive and kicking. Let’s go to Spain! Sama kayo?
