Hi there,
Today I want to talk a little about the road we must travel and the difficulties that, those of us who decide to leave our country, go through. The life of an emigrant is not easy, even if you find a job and achieve economic stability, which is the first thing we all seek, something will always be missing: the warmth of your people, the food, the family, the friends, the weather…
I went to Spain in 2012 to do a master’s degree because I had been told “that in Spain people had a good quality of life and there were many opportunities”.
From the first time I went to Buenos Aires I had fallen in love with the city and wanted to go live there but then my idea changed a bit, and I began to think that perhaps Spain offered me more possibilities and that “a master’s degree from Spain was worth more than one from Argentina”. How wrong was I!
When I arrived in Valencia, the master’s degree that I was going to do was canceled because there weren’t enough people. Things started badly. In the end, I did it in ESIC which seemed better than CEU.
At first, living there was relatively pleasant, everything was new, and the people seemed fairly normal.
Then everything went downhill. The supposed friends I had turned out to be false, the master’s degree and the institution I was in turned out to be lousy, one of the classmates with whom I had to do the project bullied me non-stop and I realized that there was no work and the little work there was, was very similar to slavery.
I finished my master’s degree and returned to Venezuela to visit my father and not knowing what to do with my life. I felt that my place was no longer in Venezuela where now I was also a foreigner and Spain had turned out to be a horrible country.
A friend who was doing very well in Peru told me to go there and try it, but I mistakenly decided to give Spain another chance. I went back and a teacher from the gym told me to take the courses and to teach while I got a good job. I spent a year there, then I went to Italy to work for a season and returned to Spain in January 2015.
I decided to buy an apartment and continue looking for jobs. I rented a room on Airbnb and with that I covered almost all my expenses. I continued teaching and in July I got a job that seemed normal (you have this story in another post).
I got to a point where I was sick of everything: lousy jobs, a country that doesn’t work, decadent and negligent public health, excessively rude and ignorant people, etc.
When we emigrate, something must compensate us and make it worth staying in that country. There was never anything there to compensate me. At first, I said “security” but you can get robbed or worse in Spain too, there is also danger.
One day I put my apartment up for sale and told my boyfriend that when I sold it, I would leave. Fortunately, that apartment gave me money while I had it and with the sale, I also earned.
When I sold it, I was in the middle of a medical treatment and I couldn’t leave, but I continued with the mental planning that as soon as the whole issue of my illness was over, I would leave.
The people I mentioned it to, were a little shocked that I was going to emigrate again and that, having had a debt-free apartment of my own in a good area of Valencia, I had sold it to build a new road. Yes! I don’t want to live complaining and bitter for the rest of my life.
I have a friend who went from Venezuela to Madrid and then to Mexico. He was disgusted with Spain like me and emigrated again. When I told him that I too wanted to try my luck in Mexico, he gave me his exposition of the pros and cons of living there. He told me something that I found super interesting: “One always looks for a place like Venezuela”. Although it is a very romantic and perhaps absurd idea, it is true. I really liked Mexico because it seemed to me that Mexicans have that human warmth and friendliness that has always characterized Venezuelans. Although it is a mistake to emigrate looking for another Venezuela, it is a common mistake.
In fact, one of the many things I hated about Spain was that most of the people were the opposite of Venezuelans: rude, selfish, racist, etc. My boyfriend says I was unlucky with the people I met.
A friend went to Valencia while I was still there. I told him to get ready because you had to arm yourself with patience to put up with the people and the malfunction of everything. He was very clear that he wanted to return to Venezuela because his wife was still there working for the United Nations.
I told him that before making contracts and paperwork he should tell me because I know how things are in Spain. In the end, he did it all on his own and it all cost him more. When I started to scold him, he told me “He was tired of su much hustle.”
With this phrase I understood perfectly that he had lived something like what I lived. While I learned to fight and complaint, he chose to do the easy thing.
We also talked about how impossible it is to get a normal job in Spain and he told me that “just by emigrating one seems to denigrate oneself”. It’s true, in Spain it doesn’t matter what experience or qualifications you have, being a foreigner makes you an individual of a lower category.
Emigrate has good and bad things. Although you always live with the nostalgia of your country, the path that we must travel leaves a very important lesson.
I learned to be alone, to be independent, to defend my rights, that there are few real friends. I learned not to settle and to continue looking for the best country. I still believe in emigrating and in trying countries until I find the right one.