20 years ago, my family and I moved to Europe. I was 11, my sister 3, and we were leaving the U.S. for the first time to live in Germany on my dad’s military orders. I remember being nervous. The history books about Hitler’s Germany and Nazi sentiment provided the backdrop to my knowledge of this country, so what business did a black family have in living in such a nation? Of course I was surprised at how much I fell in love with the country. And though we were only there for 2.5 years, arriving 6 months after my dad so that my mom, sister and I could finish out the academic year, Germany made a huge impression on me. So much so that I married a German! No, I’m kidding, though my husband was born in Germany, he’s U.S. citizen through and through because like me, his parents were stationed there as well. And it’s amazing that he and I are living in Europe once again.

To say that I'm in love with Spain, or at least SoSpa, the southern part that I now call home, is an understatement. I’m seriously trying to devise a plan to earn more money so that we can come up with enough cash for a downpayment on some property that can be rented out for the next few years. It's that serious. And while I’ve been aggressively searching for real estate options in the increasingly expensive Puget Sound and considered North Carolina’s southern charm with the porches and the ice tea, at this point in my life, if I had to choose, despite being madly in love with Seattle and DC, I would be more inclined to purchase a home in Spain, to return to in retirement or occasionally for a vacation. It couldn't be too far from a beach and the beach homes out here are valued at a fraction of the cost of similar homes in places like sunny SoCal. And for the affordable European cost of living, Spanish culture and access to European and North African countries, you can’t beat the experience. I don’t know if we’ll amass enough money in 3 years, though that’s the plan and should be added to my "Why?" statement, “So that I can have a vacation house to bequeath to my grandchildren.”

This has been a dream. We live in an area where we walk to shops and restaurants, we’re less than a minute from the beach by foot, we walk to our grocery store and could walk to the butcher, baker and Flamenco dress maker if we wanted. We walk here, there and everywhere, and I love it. I thought I wanted to live in another neighborhood where we could fully immerse ourselves in Spanish culture. And while this town has been influenced by U.S. customs and the residents are more accustomed to U.S. mores, I don’t feel like I live in little America. Sure I run into a familiar face once in a while. And sure I hear English spoken out in some places, but more often than not, the language is Spanish.

But this has been one heckuva experience. One that I never saw coming because we never expected to be living overseas multiple years in a row. My mind was ready for Everette and of course open to San Diego, but Spain is the golden unicorn that we can ride into the sunset.

We can eat pork now, in any restaurant and the jamón is AH-MAAAZING! The tapas are all incredible and unique, the highway cuts through the countryside, which is full of vast and lush green fields, farms and windmills. It’s the country, it’s the agricultural south, but there are beaches to one side and mountains to the other. It’s SoSpa and I already know I’m going to miss it here. So much so that I asked my husband to see if we could stay here for another year the same week we arrived. Yep, I’m convinced that we hit it big and, based on the rumors, one of two places may top this - Hawaii and Japan. If given the opportunity to move to one of the two in the future, I would say I’m on the fence though Japan doesn't have Hawaii cockroaches and I'm not here for the cockroaches. But we’re not going to talk about that right now. We’re going to focus on being present, enjoying Spain and Europe and being grateful for the SoSpa experience.

EU