making new friends/garbanzo&tuna salad

I have a friend, GGB., who moved from Philadelphia to New Orleans last month. This was a difficult decision for him because he, like I, had built a nice life for himself in Philly. He had a decent job, great friends, family close by. But he was restless because he's an artist and he wasn't creating. Another friend of mine celebrated his first anniversary in LA, where he moved last year, also from Philadelphia (sensing a mass exodus?), to break into storyboarding---his dream job. I am really proud of both of them because I know the risks they are taking firsthand. And it's not easy. GGB. is experiencing his first bout of homesickness and missing his friends. Perfectly normal. I remember my first few months here, which were spent primarily exploring my new home...places, food, new friends. Many times I wished that my US friends and family were here so that I could share all the first-time experiences with them directly rather than trying to recreate them in an e-mail or relate them in a telephone call. It is also impossible to develop overnight the supportive friendships you've left behind. Time, history, shared crises, love made those friendships so special; therefore, a person in a new land finds an immediate void in his or her life. I have seen newly arrived expats panic when they realize this, and then immediately go out and surround themselves with people, any people, to keep the feeling of aloneness at bay. I have never been one to make friends quickly. Big Jim and I differ in this regard. He is an extraordinarily social person and loves being the center of attention. I shun away from large gatherings, prefer sitting back to listen and observe from the sidelines. I never reveal much of myself until I am comfortable with the people around me. Big Jim puts himself all out there, and if people don't approve, his attitude is "well stuff it." Because Big Jim and I spent the first five years of our relationship living in our own worlds, with our own friends, on opposite sides of the Atlantic, it was only when we moved together to Spain that I realized people here saw us differently---as a couple. And they assessed and judged us not as individuals but as a unit. As an independent woman used to making her way on her own, I found this very disconcerting. And then there was the age difference....Big Jim is 11 years older than I; he's 47 and I'm 36. No one before had ever made much of an issue about this. I suppose maybe some people believe the gap is larger because Big Jim has been gray for years and I look a tad younger than the birthdate on my passport. Here, however, we found ourselves scrutinized for our choice of partners. I will never forget, or forgive, the woman who, on introduction, said to me, "So this is your sugardaddy then?" as she nodded in the direction of Big Jim. Big Jim has been more generous and has forgiven Antonioformerpoliceman for mistakening him as my father. In some ways, I believe it is more difficult making friends in a village versus the big city. In a mass of millions of people, finding those with similar interests and backgrounds is only a matter of time. It's also easier to hide from those you no longer wish to see (although not always true in Philadelphia...I'll never forget the night when B.V., my boyfriend at the time, and I went to see Mike Watt play at a local bar and not one, not two, but three of my old boyfriends were there [and I assure you I did not date that many]---a trifecta of bad dating memories before me). In a village of 2500, one cannot be as choosy, and in some ways I think this is a good thing. One finds oneself sitting at a table having a drink with people he or she would never imagine talking to if the situation was different. In the two and a half years here, I have made a few very good friends, and for that I am grateful. But it does take time, and there are days when I still wish I could meet up with M., B., S., J.A.R., or J.K. and have a good bitch session. These are the people from back home who really know and understand and love me warts and all. When I'm homesick for my friends I tend to watch "Sex and the City" DVDs; when I miss my family, I watch the "Sopranos" or "Home for the Holidays" (I'm not really sure what that says about the [dys]functionality of my family). And eventually the feeling of loss eases. It's a gorgeous day in La Axarquia today. There was quite a bit of traffic on the goat track this morning, and Precious Boo and Mr. Beebs had good fun playing with some of their canine friends. I often marvel at the light here, and I can understand why many artists have settled here. Maroma, the mighty 6500-foot mountain that stands as the sturdy backdrop of our world, is alive with light today as the sun reflects off its rocky precipice. The sky is perfectly clear, and the air is fresh, pristine. Ahh... But back to my reality, I must get my head out of the cloud[less] sky and start on my editing work. Before I go, here's a recipe for one of my favorite summer salads. I'm not sure it's truly a Spanish dish; it may be more Italian. Let's just call it a Mediterranean recipe, although it does use two popular Spanish ingredients: garbanzos (or chickpeas) and tuna. Here's what you need: 1 can/jar (about 16 oz.) garbanzos, rinsed 1 can tuna a couple chopped spring onions 1 T olive oil 3 T red wine vinegar Salt and pepper First, a word on the tuna. Whoever gave Americans the idea that tuna packed in water was a good thing has done a great culinary disservice and should be punished severely. Please do yourself a favor and in the future only buy tuna packed in olive oil. The Italian brand Cento sells it in the US, and if you can't find it at the supermarket, get on the Internet and order some online. I am serious about this. It may cost you more, but this is a gastronomic investment. Back to the recipe, mix the listed ingredients and chill for about 30 minutes before eating. This salad is so delicious and simple....I could have it just about every day. This is a great dish to take to a picnic because there's no dairy to worry about going off in the heat and your carbophobe friends will be happy, too. Enjoy! hasta pronto, mylifeinspain