Lately I’ve found myself reflecting on the small, daily interactions I have, that leave me feeling grateful for having moved here. Two years ago, when I was preparing for my move, I felt fairly confident that I would make friends and find my footing, as one usually/must do when one is forced to sink or swim. But the impact of having found that here, a long way from my hometown, has only recently begun to settle in.

Before I moved to Madrid, I lived in a studio apartment in a small town. One thing that I’ve always appreciated about small towns is the connectivity with others; creating a community and developing friendships, is simplified because it’s likely that you will end up seeing one another often. This is especially true when you support a small, local business. For me, that business was always a café. But, somewhat surprisingly to me, the same sort of thing has happened here, in this big city.

Take, for example, my local frutería. The fruterías are the small shops, usually run by immigrants, that sell fruit and produce for cheaper than the grocery stores. They’re everywhere, but there’s one in particular by my apartment that I like going to. It’s very small and can feel crowded with only three people, so I try to go at times of the day when I know there won’t be many people. It’s run by an Indian family, just three men, and they only accept cash, no credit cards. Occasionally some of the vegetables look slightly questionable, but the fruit is always delicious; pineapple, strawberries, and avocados, are what I buy most frequently.

After having stopped in this frutería a couple of times, the owner asked where I was from–a natural question. He guessed “Británica”, and asked what I was doing in Spain. He always picks out a good avocado for me, that will be ripe for the day that I request it (“Necesito un aguacate para en dos días”), tells me not to worry if I don’t have enough cash, and occasionally throws in something for free. There’s a feeling of mutual trust and honesty; I am a regular customer, and he encourages me to come back through his generosity.

Or even my interactions with the employees at the grocery store I frequent. I stop in at least twice a week, and have been on a first name basis with some of them for awhile. A wave and a “Hola!”, as I enter in my sweatpants. Whether they’re recommending a wine they think I’d like, or letting me pay with a card even when there’s a credit card minimum, these moments fill me with an indescribable feeling of joy and wonder at my good fortune to have strangers turn into acquaintances; people with whom, if I ever left Madrid, I would sorely miss.

I realize that this isn’t the usual life-update post, and that I’m way overdue for one of those, but I’ve had this on my mind for some time, and felt compelled to share. The daily interactions with the locals, the small conversations, the shared laughter as two people with two different mother tongues communicate, these are what show me that humans are inherently good, honest people, each on their own journey towards creating a happy life. Madrid is a wonderful city, but it’s the small moments added up that have made it my home.