"i'm not going to read any murder mysteries...

for awhile," says M.A. "Too many people dying." It is true. Since I've been back in the village, just under a week, there have been four deaths that I know of here, and another expat's brother died back in the UK. Included in these four are a husband and wife, who died less than two days apart of different causes. They were only 60 years old. The couple lived next door to M.A., and she knew them better than most people, I suppose. They kept pretty much to themselves and like more than a few expats, drank more than their fair share. I have been thinking about this quite a bit the past few days, why so many of the foreigners here drink so much, at least by American standards. Is it because they are drawn here by the cheap alcohol, or do they start drinking excessively after they arrive? A more than decent bottle of wine costs less than three euros, and a liter box can be had for 70 cents. It is acceptable to drink brandy at any time of the day. For those with an existing propensity to drink, the temptations are endless. For those with too much time on their hands, it is a readily accessible "friend" with whom to pass the hours. For those who have left behind busy lives and find themselves alone with their thoughts for the first time in a long while, and find these thoughts just a little too scary, the drink is always available as a distraction. Being an expat, a foreigner, a stranger is not easy. So many life skills to relearn; so many simple things are now challenges. Almost all ties to one's past are cut, and the proposition of starting over can be frightening to many. I have been in Spain now for almost three years. I still do not speak the language as well as I would like, and I still find I have to psych myself up to handle what would be routine things if I was in the US. I practice the words in my head before I pick up the phone to make a restaurant reservation, go to the bank, ask a store clerk a question. It is not easy, but it is getting better. My bonds with the neighbors grow tighter. I brought them all little gifts from the US, which was a great surprise to them. Even the Herb Thief smiled and gave me two pecks on the cheeks. Yesterday morning there was a knock on the door, and I looked out to see Antonio and Pepe with a jug of their homemade wine, a gift in return. I begin Spanish lessons with my tutor Miguel in February. I spoke with him over the weekend because I need to have conversation practice and review of the more complex verb structures. It takes a long time, how long I still do not know, to feel settled in a foreign land. I may never learn to use all the subjunctive tenses correctly. But I have learned we do need to reach out, and not just for the bottle, if we ever hope to feel a fraction of the acceptance we had back home. hasta pronto, mylifeinspain