Up two blocks, take a right, and a fast left, and Calle de Nenúfar becomes Calle de Naranjo.

While walking home from the metro this afternoon, I started thinking about how my transition here is going, how I'm adjusting, what's new. It's funny, I remember friends in New York who were from other countries marking their progress on occasion, noting that with some realization, activity, purchase or even mistake, they'd become American, or 'more' American. That made me think - anyone can be American, all they have to do is show up and try (yeah, glossing right over a lot of immigration-related technicalities here but, I'm talking attitude and culture for the moment). It's a very American thing, to become American - how fun is that?

But then, can anyone ever 'become' Spanish, or another nationality, just be showing up and trying? Is that an accepted part of culture in other places, to be the 'foreigner' who suddenly picks up the rhythm and just fits in? I'm working on it, and I'm going to ask my new friends about this.  Can I ever 'be' Spanish?

Meanwhile, without speaking Spanish yet, I've got ample evidence of my progress towards my goal. Here are my mini-update top 5 examples of my nascent Spanishness.

5.  I gossip and drink at least once a week. Oh, that reminds me...Jelen, call me.

4. More than once I´ve been asked for directions in Tetuán. I may not know much Spanish, but I know where I am, and it shows.

3. I can make fun of fussy old ladies in the supermarket just by making eye contact with someone around my age.

2.  I make coffee that tastes professional, and feels illegal.

1.  I introduce myself with, and only respond to, the name Anamari. It´s not a joke anymore. ¨Ann Marie¨ feels like a box of rocks in my mouth.