a couple of the good things....

Yesterday I received a telephone call from a representative of my new health insurance company in Spain. Being an American who spent years screening telephone calls to escape the deluge of telemarketers who felt it acceptable to interrupt dinner in every US home night after night to offer us the latest and greatest in salad spinners, aluminum siding, and free long-distance calling plans, I felt the hairs on my neck stand up in anticipation of the sales pitch. But no, this woman was simply calling to welcome me to the health plan and to confirm I had received my new policy and that all the information on the policy was correct. She also wanted me to know that the company had added an English information line should I ever require assistance in my native tongue. I thanked her and as I hung up the phone, I thought, "How nice." Overwhelmed with the friendliness and no-sales angle of the call, it was hours later that I realized I had successfully managed another telephone conversation in Spanish. Because there are no visual cues to follow, mastering the telephone call can be difficult, my final hurdle on the road to near-fluency. So I gave myself a belated pat on the back. The telemarketer's partner in crime, junk mail, is virtually nonexistent in Spain as well. Back in Philadelphia, I would stop by my lobby mailbox on my way in after work. Day after day without fail, the box was stuffed. In addition to the ubiquitous utility bills and credit card statements, I received reams of catalogues and pleas for money from every nonprofit organization in America. The catalogues tempted me with clothes, housewares, shoes, furniture, underwear, books, exercise videos, and typically arrived two per day, except in November and December, when the volume increased threefold in anticipation of the Christmas season. I was slightly less disturbed by the requests from the nonprofits because many of the charities do good work. On a publishing salary I never had lots of extra money, but I would pick a group every month and donate $25. I happily sponsored turkey dinners at Thanksgiving, cats at no-kill animal shelters, and AIDS research. But my letter holder was overflowing with the address-return stickers and stationery the nonprofits included as thank-you gifts for your donation. And how many calendars does the ASPCA think I need! So I thank Spain for not getting on the direct marketing bandwagon, and I hope that they never do. It's refreshing coming home to an empty mailbox and not being awoken Sunday mornings by callers trying to sell me the New York Times. And never have Big Jim and I been interrupted during dinner by someone hawking gym equipment or bread makers. To quote Martha Stewart, "It's a good thing." hasta manana, mylifeinspain