It wouldn’t be an 18 Uncles blog without me commenting on how painfully fast time goes. After fourteen months in America, I’m back in Europe, unpacking my bags in a new apartment, prepping for a new teaching position, and trying to find my feet. And trying to wrap my mind around how a year home blurred by, how lucky I am to have done what I just did, and how I’ve never had such a bittersweet pull in my chest when getting on a plane at our tiny airport.
After fourteen months in America, I couldn’t quite get a post out on each uncle while stateside. That wasn’t necessarily a goal, but it made obvious sense to do while there and then continue writing on other things from abroad.
Summer just got a bit chaotic with work, visa stuff, a sibling’s amazing wedding, and then packing and goodbyes.
I have two left. Uncle Rodney is 99% complete, and I’ll send that in for revisions in the coming days. And I got a good start on Uncle Paul, who I got more quality time with in my final weeks.
Not all is lost—far from it.
I spent hours with each uncle, chatted with each aunty, and am still unpacking—literally and figuratively—what the heck I learned.
That’s what this fall will be: reflecting.
Reflecting and writing.
I have six or so other blogs in the works that will continue to be posted on Saturdays. And I’m making a plan of attack to finish the book proposal this autumn as well.
So stay tuned.
And now, a quick life update.
I just moved back to Noia, Galicia (the northwest corner of Spain) after ten years. This was the first village I lived in when twenty-three-year-old me hopped the pond with three bags, a guitar, and zero Spanish skills.
It’s a beautiful town of fifteen thousand people on the Atlantic coast.
But this region of Spain is wet..like, Ireland wet.
And nothing like Spain from the postcards.
From October to April, it rains more days than not, the clouds seemingly with on-off switches they flip periodically throughout the day. It’s fog and mist waving underneath street lights like curtains in a gentle wind. It’s grey stone buildings with lichens growing up the foundation. It’s drizzle pattering the windowsill. And it’s downpours that pummel and soak you to the bone before you hurry to the end of the block for shelter.
I broke so many umbrellas the last time I lived here. Just walking along, well protected from the precipitation, turn a corner, and then bam. A gust of wind comes from a different direction and flips the umbrella inside out as I try to reel it in, get out of the rain, flip the arms back, and assess the damage, usually having to go buy new and hopefully sturdier protection.
It’s a tough climate, but, like anything, you get used to it and learn it’s all about how you dress. I often compare it to the Upper Peninsula.
The long winters toughen the people and also keep the less hardy in sunnier regions, leaving more untouched natural beauty for us locals to enjoy.
That’s Galicia.
Every Spanish person knows and speaks of its ridiculous coastline, fresh high-quality food, rolling hills, virgin beaches, and insanely green landscapes. But every Spanish person knows they’d struggle to get through those six/seven months of grey clouds, damp feet, and yet another consecutive day of rain.
The Galicians are amazing, though—which is another thing every Spanish person knows. Tough, friendly, self-deprecating, and proud, they’re an easy bunch to get along with.
I joined a boxing gym with my buddy Dani. We do group training sessions of about fifteen/twenty people of all ages. It’s way out of my comfort zone and an interesting feeling to be an absolute beginner at something. I suck. Geese throw better left hooks than me. But after only a week, I’m getting in a groove. Still not quite ready to spar with the 5’7” 140-pound seventeen-year-old boys who make up the majority of our class, are insanely quick, regularly give each other black eyes, and would take my head off in under a minute.
But damn it’s fun and great cardio.
Teaching-wise, I’ll be in two schools this year: one primary and one secondary. This was my first week, and I forgot how much I enjoyed hanging out with students, especially the older ones.
I’m looking forward to getting to know them and the teachers better.
And I’m looking forward to getting a routine and finding a rhythm. There are seldom-used offices in each school where I’ll be hunkered down writing between classes and maybe even once school ends.
It’s too easy to get distracted at home, and I have a lot of writing to do.
I have Uncle Rodney and Uncle Paul posts to get out, various other blogs in the works on religion, philosophy, America, and childhood, a book proposal to finish, and then a manuscript to get done.
I’m excited, motivated, and trying not to put too much pressure on myself.
When I was downstate for my cousin’s wedding, Uncle Jimmy asked me how the writing output was going—we had previously spoken about how I wanted to dial it in and be more productive.
I told him it was the same, and I still felt like I was slacking. He responded with something about how I have no timeline, there’s no need to rush, and he would LOVE to not have a hard deadline for a project.
And he was right.
My operating mode—for the most part—seems to be perpetual feelings of falling short and constantly thinking I should have done more.
It’s something I’m working on, but at the same time, I know I can be more productive. But productivity and motivation come in waves. The important thing is to keep chipping away.
And I’m chipping.
Chipping and already missing saunas with the uncles. I’m taking saunas every evening at the municipal pool/gym, but it’s not the same.
But I’m chipping. I’m finding my feet and will soon find a groove.
I’ve unpacked my suitcase and my next step is to unpack the lessons those fourteen months and eighteen legendary uncles taught me about life, love, America…and everything in between.
Thanks for following the journey.
I truly truly truly appreciate the support as 18 Uncles enters its next phase.
I see every like, comment, and share… And they mean the world.
Truly.
Thank You.
We've enjoyed all of your writing- don't worry about deadlines. We'll still be here. We were able to visit Europe this summer, Hungary, Austria & Italy. Would have loved to visit Bob & Bridget in Switzerland but they were here in the USA at that time. Haven't been to Spain so anxious to hear about that country too.