My host mom, Inma, shares the home with her older son, Dani, and for a while, her daughter, María. María left about a month after I arrived to live with her boyfriend in Denmark, hoping to find work in government translation services.
Having previously lived with host families in Germany, I was already accustomed to this type of living arrangement, but each culture has its own adjustments. One of my first surprises was when my host mom drenched my salad in olive oil—Spaniards are not shy about using this condiment! Unlike in the U.S., where we’re often warned about consuming too much oil, here it’s generously poured onto cheese, bread, salads and nearly every dish.
My host mom is incredibly kind and generous. She cooks all the meals, tends to the house and works as a caregiver for an elderly woman nearby. One thing I’ve noticed about Spain is how many elderly people and those with mobility issues spend time outside. Caregivers often accompany their charges to public spaces, where these folks can sit by a fountain, bask in the sun and just people-watch. In the U.S., it feels like far fewer older and handicapped people have this opportunity.
Every day, I attend language school from 9 AM to 1 PM, walking for 15 minutes to get there. In general, I walk everywhere. European cities are so much more connected and walkable than the U.S., where cars are necessary for most places. Buses in Granada are also incredibly reliable, and I take them all over the city. One thing I miss, however, is large grassy parks—there are very few green spaces here. My favorite is a garden near the Alhambra, but it’s a 35-minute walk from me.
Race is discussed very differently here compared to in the U.S.
