• Two years ago, I moved to Spain, and began dating a Spaniard several months in.
• We had some immediate cultural clashes, mostly around communication and our argument styles.
• I've learned that being fluent in a language doesn't necessarily make communication easy.

I'd spent years learning Spanish before I moved to Spain, but once I arrived, I realized how much further I had to go before I could call myself fluent.

I consider myself "conversationally adjacent"; I'm a few neighborhoods over from fluent, but I still get lost.

So, when I started dating a Spaniard six months into moving here, I was fully prepared for regular vocabulary deficits and butchered grammar (especially with my archenemy, the subjunctive).

What I didn't expect was that even when I understood every word, I could still misunderstand the meaning behind it — because language was only part of the equation.

I was shocked when he called me 'ugly'

Early in our relationship, my Spanish boyfriend casually called me "fea" — literally "ugly" — and was baffled when I burst into tears.

To him, the word didn't carry the cruelty I heard in its English equivalent. In Spain, words like "fea" or "feo" are often used as playful terms of endearment. Understanding this, though, didn't make it hurt any less.

Another time, I asked him how to say "making out" in Spanish. He had no idea — and, in fact, he didn't even understand the concept when I explained it.

"You know," I said. "More than kissing, less than sex. The kind of thing teenagers do on the sofa while pretending to watch a movie." He looked at me like I had invented a new sport.

That was when I started to realize that I wasn't just learning Spanish, but discovering that dating comes with different assumptions in every culture.

We followed very different dating rules

After six months together, things were going really well, but my boyfriend and I still hadn't had "the talk."

Having lived in Canada and the US, I was used to relationships hitting a certain point when someone would say something along the lines of, "I really like you, and I think this is going well. Do you want to be in a relationship or date exclusively?"

When I brought this up, my boyfriend looked genuinely puzzled. So I asked how, in his experience, two people knew they were on the same page about progressing a relationship and not dating anyone else. He shrugged and told me that usually it's just assumed.

My mouth dropped open. "But what if you assume you're exclusive, and she assumes you're not, and it turns out she's dating other people?"

He shrugged again. "You just trust that you both feel the same way," he said.

My boyfriend isn't the only one who feels this way. After our discussion, I asked several Spanish friends about this, and they all said that neither they nor anyone they knew had ever had this conversation.

I've had to separate language, culture, and personality

Some differences are easy to laugh about later — like when we argued about "compromiso," a word I understood as "compromise" and he meant as "commitment" — but others are harder, because they're embedded in our DNA.

For instance, we argue in different ways. My boyfriend can feel ready to move on from disagreements moments after they happen. I, on the other hand, take a bit longer to recover.

Two years later, we're still together and still in love. We're also seeing a couples therapist who has experience with bicultural relationships, because not being quite fluent in each other's languages means we may understand most of the words, but we're sometimes still confused about what the other person is trying to say.

Our therapist is helping us see which misunderstandings are linguistic, which are cultural, and which are simply differences between two people.

Movies often make cross-cultural dating seem romantic — after all, body language is universal, wink, wink — but I beg to differ. Communication is supremely important when trying to build a life with someone.

So this relationship has forced both of us to assess our assumptions at every potential speed bump. Now, we ask: Is this cultural? Personal? A relationship incompatibility? Or just a "lost in translation" misunderstanding that we'll laugh about later?

In the early 5th century, a woman of high rank was buried beside an old Roman posting station on the Via Augusta, in what is now the province of Castellón. Her grave held a glass cup and two gold pins in a style from the Danube region. Her brother died in Mérida, the Roman city […]

As anger boiled over in Spain about the death of Maricarmen Abascal two weeks after the 87-year-old pensioner was evicted from her Madrid home, Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez had no doubt who was to blame for the mounting housing crisis.

Emergency housing legislation passed after he dissolved parliament and called a snap election for November 29 would “stand up to vulture funds,” Sanchez said on October 6, adding that the measures would “target only those who regard housing as just another commodity to be speculated on.”

With rents rising 44% and house prices 58% over five years, protesters clamoured for a halt to speculation by so-called “fondos buitre” (vulture funds) that many blame for a raft of evictions such as Abascal’s.

But many in Spain are struggling to pin down exactly who these supposed predators are.

In the case of Abascal’s eviction, her landlord was not a big name private equity firm but rather a small consultancy called Urbagestión. Owned by two brothers, it has eight staff, a net profit of 2,990 euros ($3,350) last year and two properties to its name, according to the Association of Spanish Registrars.

After buying Abascal’s apartment eight years ago, Urbagestión increased her monthly rent to 1,650 euros from 570 euros, more than her monthly pension, according to the tenants’ union that represented her. The company took Abascal to court after discovering that her regulated rent contract had expired, court documents show.

“Urbagestión may not have been a ‘fund,’ but it is a ‘vulture SME (Small and Medium-sized Enterprise),’” Housing Minister Isabel Rodríguez said.

Who are Spain’s ‘vulture funds’?

Vulture funds first entered the Spanish lexicon after the 2008-2014 financial crisis to describe private equity funds or investment banks that bought rent-controlled flats and jacked up rents.

But companies including investment funds account for just 8% of Spain’s rental market, according to the Bank of Spain. The government has now widened the net to include anyone that makes a profit in the market, enmeshing small landlords who make up the majority of Spain’s rental market, said Fernando Rodriguez de Acuña, general director ‌of Madrid-based real estate analysis firm Acuña.

“It’s only natural that anyone should make a profit in the market. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get involved in the first place,” he said.

The government first attempted to define and regulate vulture funds in a 2023 housing law that limited the activities of “large holders” – people or companies who own 10 or more properties.

In the decrees issued this month, the parameters were tweaked so that those who own five or more properties in areas deemed to have housing shortages must also be included. They are now banned from buying property for less than 70% of its market value.

The legislation goes further by banning owners of more than two properties from evicting tenants until 2030, while all landlords will be subject to automatic contract extensions and rent freezes.

The increasingly nebulous definition of a vulture fund last week ensnared Montse Minguez, a parliamentary spokesperson in the Socialist party, who stepped down after Spanish website Articulo 14 reported that her husband owned a property company that rented out 30 apartments and had evicted several tenants.

When Antena 3 asked her why Urbagestión was considered predatory and her husband’s company was not, she said it was a family company that abided by the law and paid its taxes while vulture funds were “foreign money that buys up entire blocks of flats to drive people out of their neighbourhoods to turn them into holiday lets.”

“All we’re saying is that you can’t go for the jugular, nor can you turn to speculation or vulture funds,” she said.

Evictions surge as tenant protections expire

Spain has seen a surge in evictions since March when a pandemic-era law to protect vulnerable tenants expired.

Orders for about 70,000 evictions were reinstated after the law was not extended, according to the Tenants Union.

Olga Matute took her own life on September 7 after she was evicted in April. Her case had been pending since 2020 after a bank sold her apartment to a fund which would not accept a reduced rent.

The new measures give protection to nearly 5 million people, including 122,683 at risk of eviction, social groups including the Tenants Union said in a statement.

Landlords warn of shrinking rental supply

The decrees “are still a long way from what is needed, but they represent victories in guaranteeing the right to housing,” said Enric Aragonès, a spokesperson for the Catalonia Tenants’ Union.

But the measures will only serve to exacerbate the shortage of rental homes in the long term, said Jorge Galindo, director of Esade Center for Economic Policy (EsadeEcPo). “These are policies that protect those who have a rental at the expense of those who don’t yet have one,” said Galindo.

The National Federation of Estate Agents’ Associations (FAI) said some 600 estate agents had reported the withdrawal of some 2,067 properties for long-term let in the days after the decree. A further 1,523 letting agreements have been put on hold.

Nearly half of Spain’s housing rental stock is owned by single-property landlords, while large landlords account for just 3.6% of the market in the hands of individuals, according to EsadeEcPo research.

Investors shift towards student housing

Foreign private equity has been cutting its exposure to residential real estate in Spain for some time. Blackstone has reduced its portfolio of residential properties in Spain to 12,000 from a peak of 40,000 in 2017.

Funds are investing instead in projects such as student housing and shared, short-term rents often inclusive of amenities like gym membership known as flexible living, which are not governed by the same regulations.

More than 40% of the nearly 24,000 Spanish homes bought by investment firms over the past 12 months were student flats, according to MSCI data company.

CPP and Greystar, two of the top four cross-border investors in Spanish homes over the past two years, said their investments were entirely or mostly in student housing and flexible living.

“The fact is that the market isn’t controlled by large funds; it’s in the hands of small investors. So now it’s all the small investors who have to bear the entire burden,” Rodriguez de Acuña said. ($1 = 0.8923 euros)

From the viewpoint at the chapel of San Marcos, it looks like the work of an army of stonemasons. Two lines of pale limestone, almost vertical, run down a hillside and disappear into the green water of the Canelles reservoir. A half-ruined chapel peeks out between them. Nobody built those walls. They are the Roques […]

Since high school students began protesting in France in September, they’ve been joined by young demonstrators in at least seven other European countries.

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