We finally left for Belgium on the evening of August 8th. A few days earlier than we initially thought. But the boys were done. They wanted to go home, to their friends and to the cat. And to be honest, I was ready to go home too. At that moment we had nothing else that needed our attention. And so we said goodbye to the 2 people who were still staying in CASAdelDRAGON at that time, to the lovely people in the garden with whom we had (and still have) nice contact and we decided to go.

We drove through the night (including our traditional nightly cup of hot chocolate) and the next day to return home tired but satisfied in the late afternoon on the 9th. It’s strange to come home to a house you haven’t been in for 6 weeks. Everything felt like home, but somewhere we had also made a shift. Everything is so different. From the people on the street, to the flat roads, to the steps of the stairs, which are much smaller here than in CASAdelDRAGON. So with literally every step, we were confronted with these two worlds. It feels a bit like we’re in between. Saying goodbye to this world here in Belgium has begun, but it has a long run-up. Landing in Spain has also started, but it will take a while before we can really get settled there.

So, the location, Cervera del Maestre, check! We absolutely love this amazing place. The next question is of course, how about community life? What about that? Well, I wouldn’t mind telling you.

On the one hand, it is a bubble that bursts. That is mainly my own projection of what my ideal world would look like. In my head everyone is dancing through the streets singing, butterflies are flying everywhere and everything is light and love. Yes, nice and realistic, I know.

No, without nonsense, where people live together there is conflict, sometimes small, sometimes bigger. I don’t think I had taken into account that this could also be the case in FamiliaFeliz. But also here, so many people, so many opinions. And those opinions do not always work together, which sometimes causes some friction. And because you have not known each other for long and have not built up a history together, there is little trust and willingness.

At first I was a bit shocked by the lack of willingness. This was later somewhat softened by the realization that everyone is responsible for his or her own happiness. I really feel that very strongly. However, in practice this concept proves to be interesting in some situations. Sometimes you would like to receive something from the other, while that person may not be willing to give you what you want. It remains a challenge to manage your expectations. Communication is so important, but communicating effectively and efficiently is easier said than done. Not least because of the language barrier.

So all this was interesting. I think I had an unfair expectation. I think I hoped for a world without conflict, but that is of course a utopia. At the same time life with conflict might as well be a gift. It invites you to break out of old patterns that no longer serve you. And it gives the opportunity to grow as a person and as a group. But easy and automatic? No, certainly not.

Outside of moments of conflict, I have also seen the power of community. It touches me deeply to see that so many people want to spend time together and are also willing to help each other, but simply because they want to. I see so much value in all these different people on so many levels. And certainly for our children. So many people to learn so many different things from. Sometimes very practical, such as working with wood or learning a new language. Sometimes much more indirectly by an experience or an interaction.

So if we can be part of such a nice group of people, including the conflicts, then I foresee a nice place for us in the future. Of course, you can never be completely sure what this future will bring. But I am confident that once we settle here, we will make it. Back to basics, back to each other.

Slowly but surely we start to think about the return journey. We leave again next Sunday. After a week of illness, one after another in bed with a severe fever, we slowly crawl out of our little hole again and there is the reality we have to deal with. And that reality is that we are sold on this beautiful village. That the future worries us and that we want to make different choices that, in our opinion, fit better into that vision of the future. Here in Cervera and in FamiliaFeliz we find solidarity, a different way of living together, a view of life that suits us. And so we are looking for a place to live. We saw a house that made all five of us happy. We’ll see if the universe agrees with us.

It’s crazy to think that just a year ago, FamiliaFeliz wasn’t on my radar at all. And now we have been here 3 different times of the year, we have immersed ourselves in the life of the village and the community for 5 weeks and we are about to take the first step towards a future here. That feels exciting and terrifying at the same time. But when I stare at the sea in the distance from the roof terrace of CASAdelDRAGON and imagine that this is where our future lies, I can only smile.

And of course I am very aware that this will not be an easy journey. There are five of us in this family, each with their own story and past. This past may be a little shorter for the boys, but they too have built a life that they will have to leave behind. Their friends in the neighborhood, the football club, our house and the family. These are all aspects of their current lives that they cannot take with them to Cervera. Even though it all happened quickly, we want to make the transition as smooth as possible. Not only for them but also for ourselves. We involve the boys in all steps we take and let them decide to what extent they want to participate. Sometimes they are very interested, other times less so. It’s all good. We tell them openly and honestly why we want to leave and they understand very well in their own way what a different life could mean for us and why we want to take the step. That doesn’t necessarily make the step easier, but it does make it bearable. The past few weeks have also yielded a lot for them. New friends have been made, new skills learned, new people met and new situations arise. Fortunately, there is plenty to look forward to for them aswell.

The same goes for my husband and me. Even though we consciously started this search, it will be quite an adjustment for us to make this big step. We move to another country, with a different language and different customs, far from our family and friends. In addition, we will have a different life financially. And we are also responsible for our 3 sweet boys so that their lives will not be further turned upside down than is absolutely necessary. Add to that the search for a new home and we have our work cut out for us.

But putting all fear and worries aside for a moment, what a wonderful opportunity reveals itself here before us. And it continues to reveal itself. Sometimes big and sometimes small, but I am always surprised by the possibilities of a life here. This isn’t about appearance, it’s about who you are as a person. This is what matters and this is where your value lies and that is a relief. And I feel extremely grateful for everyone we have been able to meet all the times we have been here. Everyone contributed in his or her own way to our feeling of wanting to take on this new adventure.

Tomorrow we will have been here for 4 weeks already. On the one hand, it seems like so long. On the other hand, time flies by. When we came here, we went with the intention of possibly already finding a place to live. This has the advantage that when we return to Belgium, we can already work on our future here from there. Either by saving money or hiring someone to do some work on the house. Yes, we know for sure that we are going to buy a house that will require some work. Our budget does not allow us to buy a finished house.

That said, the houses here are often very charming, have enormous potential but are also old. So you definitely have some work to do. House prices vary enormously here, but most of them, especially in comparisons with Belguim and the Netherlands are quite cheap. So there are plenty of gems to be found for a good price.

We would like to move to Cervera next summer to really settle. There are various options for how we can do this. As described earlier, we could buy a house while still living in Belgium. We could spend the time we are here on the house and we could call in help to make it habitable for the five of us as quickly as possible.

What we can also do is just move here next summer. We can then stay here in CASAdelDRAGON while we look for our house. The advantage of this is that we live in the village and can therefore perhaps get the cooperation of the villagers in finding a house. Many houses are sold among themselves and there is no real estate agent or internet involved.

We could also choose to place a mobile home in the garden of FamiliaFeliz and live in nature for a short (or longer) time to look further from there.

The whole search causes quite a bit of stress. It’s easy to fall into the trap of “just doing it” without really knowing what we are up against. (but can we ever really know for sure?) We really want to move here but we have to be smart about the decisions we make. Above all, we have 3 boys to take into account. So if you do not fully agree on certain things (such as financing), this can sometimes lead to unpleasant confrontations.

What I find complicated myself, and I will try to explain it in words, but it is mainly a matter of feeling, is that I do not seem to live in the “real” world here. What I mean by that is, in my comfort zone in Belgium, I feel all the room to come to myself and think calmly about what the best next step would be. This can be done through meditation or journaling or by simply retreating to my favorite place. Here I miss that comfort zone. That makes me feel like I’m constantly “on”. And from that state of being, making a hasty decision may not be the best option. But if at the same time you feel the need to act immediately, then that conflicts quite a bit.

A wise man said to me: The best you can do is nothing. Just do nothing.
I feel this! But applying it remains a challenge.

Communication

[ kuh-myoo-ni-key-shuhn ]

noun
the imparting or interchange of thoughts, opinions, or information by speech, writing, or signs.

Doesn’t sound very complicated, right? Well, let me tell you, it’s not as easy as it sounds. You can follow studies in the field of communication. But I think the best way to learn to communicate is by doing it. And preferably in nice and complicated situations. Does that sound like something for you? Maybe you should visit a community. 😉 Preferably one where different languages ​​are spoken.

You are good at some things, less so at others. I’m bad at confrontation. Something I didn’t learn to deal with as a child. They were avoided, and if there was a confrontation it was not resolved but time did its work.

So this is now a complicated event for me when people are angry or irritated with each other and express that. I still cringe a bit like I did when I was a kid. Which doesn’t mean I have to avoid these situations. They are a good learning experience for me.

My first reaction is to run when things get difficult. I’ve done that often enough. But if I want to live in a community with my family, that is no longer an option. And so I will have to deal with such situations differently. What helps me is to put myself in the other person’s shoes. Everyone acts or reacts differently to certain situations. And it may be that this is not my way, but I can assume that someone is not making my life difficult on purpose.

Understanding can arise when you get to know and understand the other person. This takes effort and time. But in a world where everyone has become so incredibly individualistic, so hard on themselves and others and so self-centered that it can almost be called narcissistic, I would like to explore another option. One where we see each other again as people and not as a burden. One where we make an effort for the other even if things don’t go exactly the way we want. One where you can trust your fellow human being that he or she will not leave you as if you don’t matter. That there is the will to do things together, to make sure the other is ok. Not because you have to, but because you want to.

Challenge accepted! But of course I don’t want to stop Juan from participating in this fun challenge. So, here are 5 photos, taken on July 14, 2024. All real, unedited, raw and part of the environment we live in. We are curious the read this story behind… 😉

Gwen

I accepted the challenge with pleasure. And I was happy to see how the images brought the text out of me.

Cervera del Maestre is located in the north of the province of Castellon and is only a few kilometers from the border with Catalonia. The history of this village is still shaped by the immigration of poor people from the center of Catalonia and the development of the village infrastructure after the expulsion of the Moors, that is the story that is told again and again. The village was and is popular for its hospitality towards foreigners, probably also because every family knows the feeling of being a foreigner abroad. The trading relations of the Phoenicians, the Romans and later the Italians have shaped the country and its people as much as the many underground water veins fed by Spain’s largest river, the Ebro.

Walking through the narrow streets of Cervera del Maestre, one can feel the echoes of history whispering through the walls of the old stone houses. The village square, with its centuries-old church standing proudly in the center, serves as a gathering place for locals and visitors alike. The sound of children playing in the streets mingles with the laughter of older residents, creating a harmonious symphony that speaks to the resilience and warmth of the community.

As the sun sets over the rugged hills surrounding the village, casting a golden glow over the vineyards and olive groves that stretch out into the distance, one can’t help but feel a sense of peace and tranquility settling over this picturesque corner of Spain. In Cervera del Maestre, time seems to move at a slower pace, allowing for moments of contemplation and connection that are all too rare in our fast-paced world.

For those who visit Cervera del Maestre, the hospitality of its people and the beauty of its surroundings leave a lasting impression. There is a sense of belonging here, a feeling of being welcomed into a community that values tradition, family, and simplicity. In a world that often feels chaotic and disconnected, places like Cervera del Maestre remind us of the importance of coming together, forming bonds, and embracing the stories that connect us to our past and shape our future.

The population has declined sharply over the last hundred years, as has so many villages, but there are also countervailing trends beyond the official figures.

When the founders of CASAdelDRAGON came up with the idea of ​​rebuilding a ruin in the old village center in 1987, this history was present but not recognizable. What was evident, however, was the hospitality and the will to assert oneself and to maintain the village as a social community.

Over the last 30 years, local politicians have realized that preserving the village structure would only be possible with the settlement of new residents. On the one hand, areas were designated in the surrounding area, the village has a lot of land in comparison to its population. On the other hand, foreigners who were particularly interested in the charm of the old natural stone buildings rebuilt them with a lot of money or with a lot of commitment still exist. A few ruins still exist.

As the village embarked on a journey of revitalization, its leaders understood the importance of attracting new residents to breathe life into its historic structures. The picturesque charm of the old natural stone buildings proved to be a magnet for foreigners seeking a piece of tranquility amidst the modern hustle and bustle. With designated areas for development in the surrounding countryside, the village retained its vast tracts of land, creating an idyllic setting for those looking to immerse themselves in history and heritage.

Despite a few lingering ruins, the village clung to its roots while embracing the promise of a thriving future. The infusion of new residents brought fresh energy and ideas, invigorating the community with a sense of renewal and possibility. Through a blend of preservation and innovation, the village stood as a testament to the enduring allure of tradition and the transformative power of progress.

The price for the people after the end of Franco’s dictatorship, avoiding another Spanish civil war, was high, they avoided dealing with the atrocities. The price of preserving the village is certainly also high, because it required a very high degree of tolerance towards other languages, customs and traditions. Criticism of the settlement policy, the fear of foreign infiltration, resentment and opposition will still take their toll. Love in times of civil war, the subject of many of CASAdelDRAGON’s works, gives a preview of what is to come.

In the post-Covid period, the village and the region, actually the entire Iberian peninsula, experienced a renewed intensive influx of people, especially from the north.
Based on its old geopolitical role, there had always been an influx from Latin America. Based on its role as Europe’s vegetable patch, there had also been immigration from North Africa for a long time. Now it was first young families with old mobile homes fleeing restrictions, government harassment and multimedia indoctrination. Then wealthier classes came with the will to invest in buildings and land.

The post-Covid period brought about a new chapter in the history of the village and the region, as well as the entire Iberian peninsula. There was a surge in people migrating southward, particularly from the northern regions. This influx added to the already diverse population that had been shaped by historic migrations from Latin America and North Africa.

What was different this time was the arrival of young families with old mobile homes. These families were escaping the constraints, government pressures, and media manipulation in their home countries. They sought refuge in the serene landscapes and warm communities of the peninsula, hoping to start afresh and build a better future for themselves and their loved ones.

The village, once a quiet retreat, was now buzzing with energy and new faces. The locals welcomed the newcomers with open arms, eager to share their traditions and learn from the experiences of the newcomers. As the sun set over the picturesque countryside, the sound of laughter and conversations in multiple languages filled the air, creating a vibrant tapestry of cultures and stories.

In this new chapter of migration and integration, the village and the region were transformed into a melting pot of diversity and resilience. Each person brought their own unique perspectives and dreams, adding to the rich tapestry of life in the Iberian peninsula. Together, they wrote a new chapter of unity and hope, embracing the changes and challenges that lay ahead with a sense of community and solidarity.

Like a hundred years before, Spain again became a stopover for some and a hinterland in a new European conflict. These people encounter a badly treated but very rich nature. Only between Tarragona and Valencia is there a micro climate in Europe in which you can grow all the crops on earth in one place. The Ebro brings the water through countless underground caves and rivers.

Industrial agriculture was never able to gain a foothold in the mountainous region of Cervera del Maestre. The areas were too small, the differences in height between the terraces were too great. Where there are no large machines circling, not so many artificial fertilizers and pesticides are used.

In 1983, the young girls in the village still carried water in jugs from the springs to their houses. With the construction of the water infrastructure, the quality of life improved. Unlike other villages, this village is still blessed with drinking water. It has 4 active wells. The extensive use of the area around these wells meant that many people in the village took water as a gift to their relatives on the coast. The old people still remember this, the young people buy the water in the supermarket.

Ah, the quaint village of 1983, a place where the whispers of the past still resonate with the echoes of simplicity and communal endeavor. Picture the charming tapestry of life back then: young girls, their laughter tinkling like the bells around the necks of the village goats, gracefully balancing earthen jugs filled with the lifeblood of the earth—water—as they meandered along the dusty paths from the springs to their homes. Their bare feet, accustomed to the warm embrace of the sun-kissed ground, carried them on a daily pilgrimage that was both a chore and a rite of passage.

The construction of the water infrastructure, a monumental leap forward, was met with a mix of excitement and nostalgia. It was a beacon of progress that promised to alleviate the burden of the past, offering a shimmering glimpse into a future where the drudgery of manual labor would be replaced by the comforts of modern conveniences. The village, once a bastion of rustic charm, now boasted a network of pipes that whispered the sweet promise of running water, a luxury that flowed as freely as the stories shared around the communal wells.

But amidst this evolution, the village remained a bastion of good fortune, for it was blessed with not one, not two, but four active wells, each a silent sentinel of the community’s prosperity. These ancient portals to the water table continued to offer their crystalline bounty, a testament to the generosity of the earth and the wisdom of those who had built them.

The tradition of sharing this precious resource with relatives on the coast remained a vibrant thread in the fabric of village life. It was an act of love and kinship, a symbolic gesture that bridged the gap between the parched lands and the plentiful hills. The water, drawn from these sacred wells, became an ambassador of goodwill, traveling in containers of clay and glass, carrying the essence of home to those who yearned for a taste of its purity.

Fast forward to the present day, and the youth of the village, their eyes gleaming with the reflections of smartphones and their hearts beating to the rhythm of a globalized world, have grown accustomed to buying water in the supermarket. The wells, though still revered, are no longer the epicenter of their lives. Yet, the old-timers, their faces etched with the lines of countless sunsets, continue to regale the young with tales of the bygone days when water was both a treasure and a shared bond.

The village has not forgotten its roots, though. It remains a bastion of clean, drinkable water, a rare jewel in a world increasingly parched by the relentless march of time. The wells, now silent witnesses to the passage of generations, stand as a reminder of the importance of conservation and the value of what lies beneath our very feet.

The juxtaposition of the old and new is a poignant reminder of how far we have come, and yet, how much we owe to the simplicity of our past. The wells are not just relics of a simpler time; they are living symbols of a legacy that has sustained life and nurtured relationships for centuries. They remind us that, amidst the clamor of progress, there is beauty in the rituals that connect us to the earth and to each other. And so, the village lives on, its spirit as clear and unblemished as the water that still flows from its ancient heart.

Of course, world politics has not left the village unscathed, but the quality of the traces at least allows for some hope.
The village’s hospitality has at least slowed the general trend of depopulation. The new settlers bring know-how and children, and have the mouse with them for clicking into the digital world. Spain as a global northern European caravanserai of digital nomads. After the water pipe in 1987 came the fiber optics in 2017.

In this way, the village’s strength also creates the conditions for a new beginning. Where did the guest workers come from who rebuilt the broken Central Europe, where will they come from again when the global dream lies in ruins?

Many years ago, there was an art performance in the garden of Merche, a special woman with a special life and an impressive story – closely linked to the history of Spain: stop now start – a journey through the time of migration. What the artists anticipated in the garden of Merche would become reality a few years later: a new mass migration.

As a little boy I imagined that a mass migration was something like a moment when an entire people packed their bags and set off on the same day to the promised land, or at least from the intolerable conditions of the old one.
While in the Orient people are fleeing on foot, western democracies have switched from exporting cars to importing human flesh. From a distance, the “voluntary” movement of northern Europeans towards the south still seems like a holiday trip.
But it’s getting serious. The depopulation of Europe is progressing and with it social systems are collapsing. The ranks are thinning faster than they can be filled again. In the sociopolitical climate, the word catastrophe is a good choice.

Ah, the grand tapestry of human migration, woven through the fabric of time with threads of hope and despair, ambition and desperation. It’s a tale as old as civilization itself, a dance of peoples driven by the inexorable forces of history, seeking new beginnings or escaping the shackles of the old. Yet, it seems that in the modern theater of global movement, the plot has thickened with a sense of urgency and the stakes have never been higher.

Your youthful imagination painted a picture of a mass exodus, a great pilgrimage of sorts, and indeed, such epic scenes have unfolded in various chapters of our collective story. But the migration you speak of today is a complex narrative, a mosaic of individual journeys shaped by the interplay of economics, politics, and environmental shifts. It’s a human river that doesn’t just flow in one direction, but rather ebbs and surges in response to the ever-changing tides of our world.

The West, once the bastion of industrial might and economic prosperity, now grapples with the socio-economic consequences of an aging population. The youthful vitality that once fueled its engines now seeks warmer climes and more promising futures, as the siren call of the South whispers sweet nothings of opportunity and growth. Meanwhile, the East, burgeoning with a demographic dividend, sends forth waves of people driven by dreams of a better life, a quest for survival, or the hope of escape from the tyranny of poverty and oppression.

The depopulation of Europe is akin to a grand ballroom slowly emptying of dancers. The music plays on, but the rhythm falters as the space between the couples widens and the once-swirling gowns of prosperity hang limp and still. The social systems, designed for a denser population, now creak under the weight of their own legacy, like a once-majestic ship taking on water, listing precariously in a sea of change.

And as the Western democracies, with their storied lands and weary souls, open their arms to those in need, they are faced with a new tapestry of faces, languages, and cultures. It’s a human buffet of diversity, where the rich flavors of the world’s cuisine are served alongside the bitter dish of integration. The melting pot sizzles with the heat of both unity and discord, as societies struggle to find the perfect recipe that blends the old with the new.

Yet, amidst the chaos, there is a poignant beauty in the resilience of the human spirit. The migrants, these modern-day pilgrims, carry with them the seeds of innovation and the fertile soil of cultural exchange. They are the lifeblood that can rejuvenate the aging continent, if only the narrative can shift from one of burden to one of opportunity.

But let’s not mince words, my friend. This is a tale of hardship and hope, of loss and rebirth. It’s a saga of humanity at its most vulnerable and most courageous, a testament to our ability to adapt and endure. The “voluntary” migration of Europeans to the south may seem like a holiday in comparison to the treacherous journeys of those fleeing the fires of war and famine, but the threads of their stories are intertwined, part of the same intricate pattern of life’s grand design.

The word “catastrophe” hangs in the air like a storm cloud, pregnant with the potential for disaster or rebirth. Will Europe rise to the challenge, embracing the change as a chance to redefine its identity in a globalized world? Or will it cling to the fading ghosts of its past, unable to navigate the uncharted waters of a multicultural future?

Only time will tell, but in the grand scheme of things, this is but another chapter in the endless epic of human migration. And like every great story, it’s the characters – the individuals with their dreams and fears, their hopes and heartaches – who truly bring the narrative to life (Text in ITALIC generated by AI, as well as all “Amor en guerras civiles” – images).

We need another generation that develops innovation from scarcity. In search of quality of life, the new dream team gathers under the southern sun. What drives people more than love in civil wars.

I have found a common thread. It is an interesting issue for everyone to consider. The question is simple. The answer maybe be a little less simple if you sit down and think about it for a while. The question is: What is normal?

This morning I walked alone to the garden, where everyone had gone to, to have breakfast. And during this walk I realized how different from “normal” my days look like here. There are always people around. How different from “normal” the environment looks. I saw the mountains and the sea in the distance. How different from “normal” the language around me is. I hear at least three languages a day. How different from “normal” the rhythm is. Lunch at 4:45 pm is perfectly fine here. And of course the question followed; but what then is normal?

What I was wondering was, who decides what is normal? Is it normal if most people do a certain thing a certain way? And is, what is normal, ever questioned?

I think we have made some “abnormal” choices in our lives. Especially during our time now as a family with children. The choices we made were always close to our hearts but sometimes miles away from what was seen as “normal”. A few examples of this are prolonged breastfeeding, co-sleeping, not vaccinating, baby-led weaning, homeschooling, but also the choice that only my husband is the earner in the house and I am at home with the children. That we don’t want a big car in front of our enormous villa, but that we prefer less luxury and more time together. All things so normal for us (and for a lot of others as well), but so abnormal for others. I like it when I’m not judged on my way of normal but than again, i also judge..

I think normal always changes. When I think about what I used to think was normal and what I think is normal now, I come to a completely different conclusion. The lesson I want to learn from this is that I should try harder not to judge someone else’s “normal”. I think that the judgement of someone else always comes from a place of misunderstanding, and at a deeper level perhaps mainly from fear.

If we figure out a number of basic principles, such as not doing harm to others, in the ideal world every person should be allowed to take his or her space to find his or her own normal without being judged by someone else.

More connection starts with an open mind and an open heart. And oh, how difficult that is sometimes. Because how easily we have already made up our mind. I always laugh at myself when my preconceived conclusion turns out to be anything but the truth. It happens a lot…

Maybe normal is a concept that doesn’t exist. Because no place on earth is the same, and every place has its own normal. No family is the same and every family has its own normal. And we still like the normal of FamiliaFeliz at the moment so we’re just expanding our own 🙂

In an earlier blog I wrote that we are together with people who do not all speak the same language. We are currently together with Germans, Spaniards and Dutch and there is also some Portuguese to be found somewhere. There is not one language that we all speak. So in FamiliaFeliz you can hear a mix of German, Spanish, Dutch and English all day long.

For the little things this is not so bad. With our hands and feet we manage a lot. So today when I got stung on my little finger by a wasp, it didn’t take much for me to ask our fellow FamiliaFeliz visitors in the garden, who speak German and Spanish, for help. (thanks again! I know they are reading this 😉 )

Fortunately, for the more complicated things such as explaining things that happened, we have Google translate. You speak a text in your own language, and he translates it into the other language. I’m probably the last one to find out about this, but you can even take a picture of a text that Google then can translate. I’m not a fan of Google, but in this situation it has often been our salvation.

Apart from some frustration of not yet understanding a language sufficiently, this environment is extremely good for learning other languages.

And I also see that a language ultimately does not have to be a barrier with the children in FamiliaFeliz. They took some time to get used to one another, but they have now found each other. This makes the whole experience, at least for our boys, a lot more fun. It is easier to express yourself to another child in a language that is not your native language than it is sometimes to an adult.

There are so many ways you can express yourself. If you are open to it, then learning another language is a real gift. And it is especially nice when the new language you are learning is the language of art.

We have been here for 5 full days now. The kids asked me today how long we’ve been there. For them it already felt like 2 weeks, said the eldest. The boys are doing great! Anyone who is a parent will understand that a happy child makes a happy parent.

They adapt well to the climate and to being around “strange” people. They really seem to feel at home here. One thing that may take a little getting used to for them is the times to eat. The rhythm in Spain is so different from home. We are late eaters by Belgian standards, but the Spaniards really take the cake.

Add to that the fact that we often eat together and that this is not always something they know or like, can make for some grumpy children.

But all this indirectly creates interesting situations for me. Being used to doing things my own way and then coming into a community with more people to take into account are really two different things.

I’ll try to explain what happened. Yesterday in the afternoon we agreed that we would eat fries (fries = happy children). The five of us went to do some shopping in a village nearby. That took a long time and we were back late. I was under the impression that people would already be busy making the fries. But that turned out not to be the case. Dinner was made in the evening, but something completely different which I wasn’t sure who it was for.

Then several things happened. I am a huge conflict avoider. I don’t want to bother anyone with my problem and I don’t want to make anyone feel like they didn’t do a good job. But I was also annoyed that it was now late, the children were not getting what they were promised, they were hungry and grumpy and I, as a mother, had to deal with it.

What I should have done was ask. Ask what happened to the existing plan. Ask what was going on now. But the above mentioned qualities stopped me from doing so. So what I did was not communicate, make soup for the boys that they liked and solve it myself. This is how I’m used to doing things. There is a deep-rooted feeling in me that I have to do things myself and that there is no help or that others do not want to take care of me or us.

I know where this comes from and I also know that this feeling and behavior is holding me back to be the best version of myself. Both for myself and for others. What is beautiful and at the same time very difficult is that community living gives me a lot of opportunities to break free from these unserving beliefs.

But for someone who doesn’t want to make mistakes, it is sometimes a real challenge. Old pain surfaces and may be resolved. I think I knew this would happen, but I secretly hoped that everything would go smoothly.

Very unlike me, I had a conversation about this today and luckily there was nothing but understanding and support.

I understand that this sounds like something small to some, but for me it is the beginning of a new life, a different view and an interesting learning path.

In February of this year we dared to take the step. We as a family of 5, with no experience with community what so ever, drove over 1600 km to stay for a week in a real community.

Well, with real community you might think of a place where many people live together, where everyone has his or her task and where expectations for each other are high. If that’s the case, then we maybe didn’t go to a real community.

FamiliaFeliz is an un-intentional community. And this fact, the no intention part, does not necessarily make it easier for a dummy. Maybe even the opposite. If you know what is expected of you, you know what the intention is, than you can do it and you don’t have to think about anything. But then, here in FamiliaFeliz, that is just not the case. So we dummies came here to figure out how things are done here.

This week at FamiliaFeliz was amazing and also a bit overwhelming. We talked to a lot of people, considered a lot of options and most interesting we fell head over heels in love with the town. With a head bursting of information and with a lot of questions about “what now” we went back home.

In May we made the same trip again. This time, due to circumstances, we did not stay at CASAdelDRAGON, which gave us the space to view the area around in a different way.

Now it is July and we are here for the 3rd time. This time we will stay in CASAdelDRAGON for 6 weeks and really immerse ourselves in what life would be like if we want to move here. Because that is our idea.

For anyone who is interested in FamiliaFeliz, community life, emigrating with children, or just wants to follow our journey. I’m going to try to document these 6 weeks for you. The ups and the downs. The honest story.

I am writing this blog on the 3rd day we are there.
The children found the swimming pool. They are 13, 10 and 8 years old and can easily go to the pool on their own. Cervera del Maestre is a charming, small and well-organized village. With peace of mind I can let the children do their own thing here. For now they are having a great time. They enjoy getting their groceries in the supermarket or the bakery. We don’t speak Spanish very well yet, but luckily they don’t let that stop them.

Ben, my husband is still working remotely for the first 3 weeks. It takes some time to figure out how and where he can best do his work. If all goes well, from tomorrow he will have a place outside the house so that we don’t have to get in each other’s way as much.

And for me. The first day was arrival day and settle down day. Plenty to do and little to think about. Yesterday things got interesting. The kids did their thing. I didn’t necessarily have to do anything. And so I walked around a bit like a headless chicken. Fighting that feeling that I needed to do something. Looking for a mode that worked. I read a bit in the Spanish sun, but I didn’t get much more out of it. In the evening we enjoyed each other’s company with a BBQ on the roof terrace. Today was already better. I got behind the laptop to do some work and wrote this blog. I enjoy being creative and this can be done in different ways. There are a number of plans for the coming week to express this. But life can also be slow here, if you want. And I think this suits us to.

In the community now there are 9 of us in CASAdelDRAGON. 5 adults and 4 children between 14 and 8. Some speak English some speak Spanish but not everyone can speak both which makes for funny situations but also for a great learning opportunity. This composition will not be the same for the entire 6 weeks, some will stay, some will leave, others will join, some will come back. Since last week, 3 people have also been living in the garden of FamiliaFeliz. We will certainly meet them these days, but yesterday’s thunderstorm threw a spanner in the works.

My husband and I walked through the village yesterday evening. Every time we do that our heart beats faster. We both agreed that before we went, 6 weeks seemed like a long time, but now that we’re here it feels like 6 weeks isn’t going to be long enough. Whether that is really the case, you can read along with us here in the coming weeks.

Thanks for joining
Gwen