Simple Sunday lunch. Cinderella story

Gabriel woke up this morning shouting: "yaya!". It was 5.50am on Sunday, the only day of the week the yaya or driver don't come to work.

When I picked him up out of bed a thought crossed my mind and I smiled. I was having this image of the five of us back to Canberra next June, in one of those pretty sterile temporary apartments in Kingston into which the Government puts temporarily returned diplomats to help them to settle back into Australia. 

In that imaginary picture I had I could see Gab saying loudly the same word "yaya!". No one responded. Because there is NOT a yaya in Canberra; dad is at work from 8am after dropping Aure at her new school until who knows what time; and mum is probably cleaning the toilets or doing the dishes and getting ready, in her sport gear (like most of the stay  at home mums) to do the shopping in Coles with him and baby Juanan, driving a second hand car with a GPS next to the wheel in case she gets lost in one of those hideous famous roundabouts of Canberra.

Oh, yes, Gab will have a bit of a shock, and me too, let's be honest.

The diplomatic life reminds me of the classic Cinderella, one of my daughter's favorite books: when you are posted in overseas, Cinderella is dancing with her prince in palace wearing an exquisite dress; when the posting ends after 3 or 4 years, back to Australia, is the chapter when she rushes back to her carriage at midnight, losing her right crystal shoe on the stairs of the palace. Slowly, the carriage becomes a pumpkin, the horses become mice, and her beautiful dress is just dirty clothes.

When I met Nick in Spain, he fitted the stereotype of a diplomat's wonderful lifestyle. Nick was single, the Third Secretary of the Australian Embassy in Madrid, living in a huge old apartment in la calle del Almirante near Chueca suburb. His diplomatic number plate saved him of a couple of fines on the road when he travelled during the weekends with me. He knows Spain better than me or my family. In general, he was enjoying his posting (he was also in one of the best countries of the world! so, why not?).

My family saw this side of the diplomat's life, and got excited for me, even said "you have won la loteria!". But when we left Spain in March of 2003 and moved to Australia with Nick, the story was a bit different that what I expected, and what my mum and two younger sisters expected when they went to visit me in December that year. My mum almost had a heart attack when she saw my freezing cold ex-government cottage in Narrabundah/Canberra, that looked like a dog box.

I was 25, a new bride and a new immigrant. There was not a nice big house with a cleaner and a driver.
 It was so cold that one mornig I had a cut in my hand and I didn't feel it until I had a hot shower in the evening. I also had to wear three jumpers inside the house. I had to ride a bicycle to go to an English course (a one hour ride away), and worked as a waitress in the evenings in a Spanish restaurant, Legends, whose owner had pity on me and gave me a job within 5 minutes of meeting me. I didn't last long in the job, too clumsy.

But, I think my family was right, I have won the lottery with the family Nick and I have created and with the job "both" have that allows us to experience different cultures, meet new people, have strong friendships, and be flexible, adaptable and open minded to the world and circumstances. There is not always rose colour, as we face challenges...but who doesn't?

But life is too short so today I decided to call my yaya to help us for a few hours. Let's enjoy the Cinderella dance until midnight!

 This is our lunch today: a nice open plate of tomatoes with salt, pepper and extra virgin olive oil; a couple of nice green salads; some cheddar cheese with dried biscuits; a few left over empanadas (recipe in the next post) and....my favourite toasted bread rubbed with garlic, a slice of fresh tomato and a couple of sardines in oil on top. Simple, but delicious.