MAKING FRIENDS

"I would sooner be a foreigner in Spain than in most countries. How easy it is to make friends in Spain!" - George Orwell

I've always had the sense that people from other countries see Americans a bit like overgrown Labradors: gregarious and sloppy with our emotions, trying to make friends with everyone that we meet. As someone who's naturally cautious and introverted, I typically feel more comfortable on the periphery, taking photos and observing.

Living in Spain is chipping away at my reticence, in part because successful language learning requires frequently engaging in conversation, but also because Spaniards are so genuinely warm and welcoming. Even the wizened old waiters at the bodeguitas will crack a friendly smile beneath their outer veneer of brusque efficiency. Just yesterday as I sat in some ancient tavern waiting for my husband to make an ATM run, a shriveled septuagenarian sidled up with her glass of beer.

"Es tuyo?" she asked, pointing at my husband's leather messenger bag sitting on the empty seat. "Es preciosa," she said with an approving cluck. With that, we were launched into conversation about Sevilla, Spanish culture, and my reasons for visiting.

"Pero ya hablas muy bien!" is the typical refrain when I tell people that I'm studying Spanish--which isn't to brag that I'm particularly good at speaking Spanish (I'm not), but rather to comment on the easy conviviality of Sevillanos, who are, without exception, always willing to converse.