I’ve been in Spain for exactly two months now and I've made countless posts about how wonderful/exciting/breathtaking it is. (Countless might be an overstatement... more like ten. Give me a break, I'm very lazy.) I'm loving my time here and I have no regrets whatsoever about coming. However, let's get real: Spain is definitely not a perfect country and there are plenty of things that drive me crazy. Like pull-your-hair-out, fight-with-people, illegally-emigrate crazy. So, to make everyone feel better about not being in Seville with me, I'm going to discuss five random things about Spain that I hate. Enjoy the schadenfreude!
Note: if you're looking for a scathing intellectual indictment of Spanish society/politics/norms, you are in the wrong place. This is more along the lines of "The TV doesn't have enough channels and they don't have Wendy's!"
5. CREEPY SPANISH MEN
I know I’ve discussed this recently, but it needs to be restated: many men in Spain are remarkably forward. Put less politely, they are complete creeps. They will hit on you relentlessly and shamelessly, regardless of massive age differences (do I look like I'm in the market for 60-year-old men?) or how you respond (literally everything is interpreted as "Call me 'guapa' a few more times and I'm yours!") or how you actually look that day (are sweatshirts considered exotic here or something?).
Plus, the Spanish have a tradition called the "piropo", in which men yell compliments, whistle, or hiss at women walking by in the street. Basically it's a culturally-sanctioned way to hassle ladies. It's harmless and sometimes hilarious but usually annoying, and I haven't met anyone here that hasn't been a victim at least once. For shame, Spanish men! This is why you all still live with your mothers!
4. LIVING IN SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE
I'm currently living in a homestay with my host mother. To be fair to Spain, this would happen anywhere I studied abroad, but I really dislike being a guest in someone's house for four months. It's a very uncomfortable feeling, like I have to be on my best behavior all the time.
For example: I can't play music, or watch movies on my computer with the sound on, or talk on Skype with anyone if my senora is home because the walls here are roughly the thickness of construction paper. I have no control over when/what/how much I eat (awesome, white asparagus with mayonnaise again!). I can't put my feet up while I watch TV, or sit cross-legged on the couch, or walk around without slippers on because Spaniards have a strange aversion to feet. My room is the size of an average American bathroom (if my desk chair is out or my closet door is open, I can't get out) but I'm stuck in there pretty much anytime I'm home because I don't want to disturb my host mother. I can't take a shower that lasts more than ten minutes because the hot water will go out-- if it was even there to begin with. Jealous?
3. COSTLINESS
Welcome to Spain, the land where you can't afford literally anything! Need batteries for your camera? Four AA batteries will cost you just over $4.00. Thirsty? A typical glass of beer here-- a portion so small that no American bar would dare serve it-- costs about $2.25. Craving fast food? A combo meal at Burger King costs a whopping (pun intended) $11.00. Want a snack? A regular-sized container of peanuts will cost you about $7.00. Honestly... peanuts? They're so cheap they're basically the ramen of nuts! How is that even possible?
All in all, it's amazing how much money I've spent in my time here. I've been trying to be more frugal (I've always been very money-conscious but I'm basically Oliver Twist at this point) and no matter what I do I keep hemorrhaging money. Even the most minuscule purchase destroys my bank account. What the heck, Europe? There's no way that chapstick costs $4.00. Why didn't I go to South America again?
2. SMOKERS
The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and I step outside my apartment door in the most chipper of moods... into an inescapable cloud of smoke. For whatever reason, possibly some extremely convincing Camel ad in the 1970s, everyone in Spain smokes. I walk about half an hour to the University of Seville and spend at least 15% of that time inhaling someone else's second-hand smoke. I'm pretty easy-going in general but it's like some weird type of dark magic-- it turns me surly and bitter immediately. Smoking is one of my pet peeves because it's so inherently selfish: why should your terrible habit endanger my life? Come on, buddy, I'm slowly killing myself on fried chicken and cookies but you'll be no worse for the wear. Be a team player.
To make things worse, there are very, very few no-smoking laws here. On every street, in many stores, and in every bar or club (regardless how poorly ventilated) smoking is welcome. As a result, my lungs are assuredly a delightful shade of gray after two months in this country. If I ever get lung cancer I am going to do things the American Way: sue the HELL out of Spain.
1. THE FOOD
If you didn't realize that food would top the list, I regret to inform you that you don't know me at all. I hate the food here with every fiber of my being. First of all, maybe I'm being super-American but the portions are preposterous. Four tiny pieces of ham does not a dinner make. There is literally no one over age four who would be content with the tiny chunks of meat you just gave me. Factor in that everything is insanely expensive (see complaint #3) and I very rarely sample the local cuisine.
Plus, the food here is pretty bland. I thought it was just me, but I got this complaint verified by several of my friends. Hey, Spain-- olive oil, as much as you adore it, is not a flavoring. Why do you pour it on everything? Also, salt only goes so far. Don't you have spices of any sort? Come on, you're right next to Morocco, you've got to have something you're holding back.
Ok, I have to go out now but that's the essence of my issues with Spain. Can someone air-mail me a Baconator, please?