"Hosery"

I had a friend two summers ago who, like myself, had decided to prolong his stay in Cortona, Italy by finding work beyond the UGA study abroad program. He worked as a landscaper that summer while I worked as a nanny. Often, when we would get together to hike or watch the events of the World Cup unfold, our conversations, like two fledgling ex-pats, would venture into reminiscing, comparing or complaining about the differences between the culture in which we were living and the one from which we came.
“Hoses,” he said. “Italian hoses are so much better than American hoses. Why do America have those crappy hoses that always kink and dry and crack.” “The Italian hoses are made of light, flexible rubber that doesn’t kink and doesn’t crack.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe you should write your first book about it.”

Italy has come and gone and now, so has Spain. But with Spain in much more recent memory, I’d like to share with you all some of my observations since my return back to the states and how being away from familiarity really opens up a new perspective on even the simplest of things.


Grass.
I forgot how much I missed grass while I was living up in the “outstanding crag” of the Sierra de Cádiz. I also forgot about the American phenomenon of “lawn obsession.”


People.
I forgot that so many people in the states live their lives and base their actions on fear and frustration.


Toilet water.
The amount of water in American toilets is astounding.


Wine.
Can anyone tell me if there is anywhere in the whole of the United States where I can find a good bottle…I mean good…of red wine that is five bucks or less?


Underground.
Madrid subway system: anyone is up for conversation, ride is smooth, color and lighting aesthetically pleasing. Also, at some point, you are guaranteed to be pick-pocketed.

New York subway system: everyone maintains personal bubble and avoids any personal contact or connection at all times, ride is violently jerky, color and lighting aesthetically depressing.


Left Foot Disuse Anxiety.
Happened when I came back from Italy too. Me poor little left foot has phantom clutch depression urges while driving America’s automatic vehicles.


Public Transportation.
Ubrique: What’s that?
America:What’s that?

Business and business hours.
Ubrique: Guess I took for granted the fact that I could leave the house and in 1 minute or less, get fresh bread from the bakery, fresh produce from the fruit stand, and/or fresh goat cheese and eggs from the butcher.

America: Guess I took for granted that you have the option of functioning between the hours of 1pm and 5pm and that you don’t actually need 4 hours do digest your food before moving on to the next task.


Exercise.
At least in America, women are seen moving at a faster pace than a high-heeled strut and do not get disapproving or incredulous looks and comments from passersby when attempting to have a leisurely jog.


Medical Treatment.
America: Ridiculous amounts of money are spent on prescription drugs that are prescribed for conditions and illnesses that didn’t exist before the existence of said prescription drug.

Spain: Universal health care. But, for some reason, the first question I am asked upon entering into the clinic is: “Do you want bread?”