The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly on the Plain…

By Diana Mahmoud

Or, as the song goes here,“La lluvia en Sevilla es una pura maravilla.”

Even though I have lived in Spain for almost two years, there are moments when I feel like I just stepped off the plane. Most days, I do quite well. I've figured out how to accomplish basic tasks in this country. For example, I know that when I go to grocery store, I weigh and tag my own fruits and vegetables, but when I go to the market someone must do it for me. I've learned that when I call for a cab, the meter starts at the point of the call as opposed to when the driver arrives at my door. When dining, I now keep my handbag in my lap and never ever leave it hanging on the back of my chair for fear of pick-pocketing, which is all but an Olympic sport in Barcelona. Yeah, for the most part, I think I've got it ...

until I don't.

You know, on those occasion--the ones that remind me I am really just the Eliza Doolittle of expats, still in desperate need of tutelage before becoming a fair lady of Spain.

For instance, the first time I went to the movies here I didn't know that I was suppose to sit quietly through the closing credits, reflecting on what I had just witnessed, listening to the closing music, and reading the name of the personal assistant to the lead actor, instead of jumping out of my seat and sprinting to the bathroom the way we would in the United States. On another occasion, I didn't realize that I was suppose to keep my doctor's prescription to get medication refilled. In the U.S., the pharmacist takes the piece of paper from you and keeps a computer record of how many refills you are allowed. Here, it's my responsibility to keep track of those minor details. Little did I know that I am to be my own steward of proper and honest dosing.

The point is just like the cockney flower girl who successfully passed herself off as a duchess at the ball, sometimes I can come off as knowledgeable and wise in my new surroundings. I can tell you with absolute authority that the rain in Spain does not mainly fall in the plain, but rather in the northern mountains. But, then again, ask me to point toward the direction of those very northern mountains or even name them, and hear me sing an entirely different tune.

I think I've got it--not!