Dinner tonight was just Felix (my host dad) and myself; quite relaxing with just the two of us. As we enjoyed our fried fish and mixed-vegetable dinner, I asked him what his plans are for next week since Lindsey and I are both taking off for vacation. "No sé, no sé..." he replied. I don't know, I don't know. I nodded, and went back to eating. I have all but given up speaking with him because despite having lived here for 6+ months, he still does not understand my Spanish. I think he just doesn't have enough patience...I mean, I get it; he's had to put up with so many host students that it's any wonder he pretends to understand as I ramble on about my classes, homework assignments, and vacations.
It's quite frustrating, because I understand almost everything. This is not the point.
The point is, he went on to explain to me that while he would love to take a trip next week, he cannot. "Dinero, siempre dinero," he said. It's always the money. There just isn't enough. He's still unemployed, and not sure when he will find work again. "I used to make walls," he said to me in Spanish, knocking his finger on the tile wall. "I made walls, but nobody needs walls anymore." He explained that housing crash, so many people lost their jobs. I nodded along, understanding completely. Having learned about the housing bubble in my economics class last semester, I memorized the data and and the theories, but experiencing it and seeing the crash is something much different.
Do I feel guilty? Yes, of course! How unfair is it that I come all the way here from the states, spending all my summer money on trips every month, and I go out for tapas at least once a week, and can splurge on the occasional shopping spree. All MY money, granted. Hard-earned money from a summer job I was lucky to have. But I'm 21. He's probably 42. I don't think it is fair. We read on the news about how Inaki Urdangarian, the son-in-law to the Spanish king, basically stole thousands of dollars from the government by avoiding taxes, and it is no wonder that Felix believes the man's hands should be cut off. Whenever he says this, Montse (my host mom) rolls her eyes and tell him "shhh," because that will never happen.
But I feel his frustration. It's not fair. The man knows how to make walls. He sits across from me at the dinner table almost every night wearing a worn out sea-green and sky blue wind jacket, circa 1995. It's a simple life, but it is his life. Without anymore houses to build, he is SOL. He's hopeful that in the next 5 years the economy will pick up and he will find work again. Until then, it's afternoons of searching the web, walking the dog, and watching the news waiting for something to happen.
-Read more about Iñaki Urdangarian and how he was finally sentenced last month.
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