If you read my Facebook, you will know that I had an interesting trip home. I was advised to get a wheelchair ride in Paris because I would otherwise miss my next flight (only one hour between and in another terminal). That was the highlight of my trip. My driver was a young man who was ruthless -- he "mercie, mercie,mercied" his way through the crowds, parted the red sea, ordered my own shuttle between terminals, and got me to my flight, put me and my bags on my seat, and I got in under the wire. He was amazing. It was amazing. I was embarrassed to get a wheelchair since I can walk just fine -- but maybe I'll never walk between flights again.
I came home to a very, very long and annoying trip through Seatac and went to Martin's house and slept the rest of the day and night. Unfortunately, I brought my bug home and infected my son with my welcoming hugs and kisses! Nothing like having a Spanish flu for 24 hours after your mother gets home.
I went from trip to a really busy month with surgery for a cataract and several doctor appointments surrounding that and finishing up four interns from City University showing me their skills so they could get their Masters in Counseling. Unfortunately three of them were over an hour's drive away and that was my May! They have now duly graduated, I'm getting used to my new eye lens, and summer is a'coming!
My trip to Spain was lovely and it seems I may be going back since Dani, Charles and Nico are hoping to stay another year. They will all come back in time for James's college graduation from St. Olaf's in Minnesota. And, just in time for Nico to begin middle school.
So, now you are all caught up with my news -- sorry to drop the Spain but I am glad to be home again.
]]>On Friday evening, Dani had her book group and Charles went to his Buddhist Sangha. He began doing this when he was in Hong Kong by himself, and he has continued to be associated with Plum Village, the spiritual community founded by the Vietnamese Zen Monk,Thich Nhat Hanh, who is well known internationally for his writings on mindfulness and peace. Charles has been able to go to a conference in France while he has been here. It is a wonderful opportunity to continue such a meaningful practice that began in Hong Kong where he was part of a conference that included the zen master.
Dani and I decided to set up a puzzle on their only dining space while Charles was gone. Since I knew he was coming home to have dinner, I was sure he was going to walk in and wonder where we were going to eat. However, he came in the door and said, "Yea! A puzzle!" and we made ourselves something to eat and began building this complex, 1000 piece, puzzle in the quietness that he brought from his Sangha and my inability to eat, do a puzzle, and talk (believe it or not).
It has been cool and drizzly so doing things like puzzles was just the ticket. We continue to go down for coffee in the morning and since Dani's computer is back home, we have continued to watch Planet Earth before bed. Only one more full day before we leave for Malaga where I will catch the plane home. We have booked two days there, but we'll see how Dani is feeling.
At this point, I'll be glad if the worst of the long, rainy winter is over in Bellingham.
Here are Thich Nhat Hanh's opening words to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change entitled "Falling In Love with the Earth." You can Google the entire speech which is beautiful and should warm your heart.
This beautiful, bounteous, life-giving planet we call Earth has given birth to each one of us, and each one of us carries the Earth within every cell of our body.
Amen
I did have one accomplishment, however. Nico has never had a professional haircut and likes his hair long. But, it was pretty raggedy. His mother suggests it is because she has been the barber. It seems he has some celebrity with his friends for having lots of hair. However, I decided a bribe was in order. All the boys around here like one particular barber, so I bribed Nico with some funds if he would get his hair professionally cut. Since he is afraid of barbers, I made the bribe large enough for him to be tempted. Sure enough, he took the bait and went to the barber today with his dad. Now that the barrier is broken, I think he will go back because Charles did not ask the barber to cut it all off. It's still long, but it looks better.
The weather has turned and we have had some sprinkles the past few days. When it sprinkles around here, the kids cannot go outside to play -- even though the sprinkles are less than a WA sprinkle. You cannot call them rain. In fact, you can hardly feel them and might not even know it was sprinkling unless you looked at the cloud cover. However, Granada calls them rain and all activities are called off. Reminds me of school being called off in WA because of a very light snow. I'm sure the midwest laughs at us. In any case, our patio doors are closed and I have a sweater on.
I'm happy just to burrow in for a few days. One of the things I love about traveling to visit my kids in another country is that I can really get the feel for how they are living -- the cuisine, their friends, their home, the culture and their activities. I'm more interested in that then in any bucket list to cross off. So, I probably won't get inside the Alhambra palace, but that i ok. I think I have a sense of what it is like to live in such a unique area of Spain -- and that is enough for now.
However, I do hope the sun comes out again before I leave.
]]>We then stopped at a little hotel on the Alhambra grounds and near the Generalife called the Hotel America. The restaurant was in an enclosed and charmingly decorated patio. I had gazpacho and a roasted asparagus plate and Charles had meat croquettes and some French fries. We walked back along the pathways to catch another taxi to take us up to the Plaza St. Nicholas at the top of the Albaicin where we picked up Nico from school and walked home.
It's a pretty harrowing drive through the narrow streets for the drivers. There is barely enough room for a small bus or auto so people who are walking have to flatten themselves against the whitewashed walls of buildings or find a little niche to stand in when the vehicle passes. Sometimes autos have stopped for some reason so no one can get by. I'm impressed by how patient everyone is when that happens. Everyone seems to take it in stride until things get moving again. Most of the streets we walk are not big enough for vehicles, and the vehicles that do manage to come into the Albaicin are small.
Charles went out to the store for a roasted chicken for dinner and Nico and I ended the day watching an episode of Planet Earth on my computer screen. It was a lovely day.
]]>Sitting outside on the patio is such a fascinating experience. I've already said something about the sounds -- mostly I love the church bells ringing. Yesterday they rang more often because it was Sunday. They are so lovely and a good reminder to stop for a minute and ponder the world. The other thing that fascinates me about sitting outside, enclosed within high whitewashed walls, is that people can't see you. I often sit on my front porch at home and greet the few people, mostly neighbors, who amble by.
Here it is like Grand Central Station. I sometimes have to stand up and peer over the wall just to see what all the commotion is about. Today, within a fairly short time, the parade began. Here are the people who passed by: a) a group of college age students laughing and goofing off, b) several mothers speaking sweetly to children, c) about 30 tourists that were chatting loudly in different languages about the sights, d) several small clusters of Spaniards speaking very quickly and excitedly about something beyond my understanding, e) a few people who appeared to be either having an argument or just angry about something, f) a group (classroom?) of teens, and e) several barking dogs. Charles says that their little corner lot is an alternative route through the Albaicin and not even as busy as the main routes. Since the walls are stone and the pathways so narrow, all sound reverberates off the hard surfaces. The loudest people are those who are pulling wheeled suitcases over the cobblestones. Every day you can hear the worst racket and then you know someone is moving in or out. You can also hear everything that is said. Of course, you have to know Spanish very well to understand. The late afternoon sounds include the children playing soccer in the narrow streets. We can always tell where Nico is by the sound of the soccer game.
One other interesting thing about this house is that it is owned by the artist, Ricardo Bellido Cebellos, and the walls are full of his paintings and sketches. He came by yesterday to drop off a new toaster and we visited. He says he is not painting any longer but now is doing restoration work. He showed me some of the projects on his phone. I think his art (some of which is probably from his student days) is what makes the house so unique and lovely.
That was the day -- Dani has the computer that hooks up to the television, so we've had to stop our nightly ritual of watching either Blue Planet or Planet Earth. It has been an enjoyable family activity.
]]>I went out to the patio to read about 6:00 and Dani brought out wine and cheese and the ubiquitous olives. Soon there were three families joining us for appetizers. The children played while we visited, and they went home around 8:00. We ate dinner and Charles arrived home after we had watched the last episode of Blue Planet and Nico had climbed into bed. Everyone was glad to see Charles, and he was glad to be in a warmer climate. Scotland was cold!
Sunday was busier. We went down to town and back to Bib Rambia Square to have churros with chocolate and coffee for a breakfast treat. Many of the stores were closed on Sunday including the Apple store where I wanted to pick up a connection for my iPhone earplugs for use on the plane. Charles then took off with Nico, and Dani and I went to the Royal Chapel to see where Ferdinand and Isabella and their daughter, Joanna and son-in-law, Phillip of Castille, are buried. Although we know them best for Christopher Columbus, they are important around here for the fall of the Moorish dynasty. We caught the bus home, got off at Plaza San Miguel Bajo for a cold drink before descending the steps and pathways home.
I am finally oriented enough to find my way to town, to take the bus to the plaza, and to negotiate the streets home from there. God forbid that I turn the wrong way. I can also take the dogs for a walk around the block and find my way to Cuatro Gatos for morning coffee. Dani is off tomorrow for a trip to Vienna with her friend, Tara, who is going to a conference. Charles and I are making plans for spending a day at the Alhambra.
I just finished a book that Dani bought me for Christmas --The Red Hill by David Penny. It takes place just before the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella when they were very close to conquering the city. But, more importantly, the setting is the Alhambra and the Albaycin. It's a good read although a bit gory at times. But, it certainly captures the ambiance around here as well as the history of the area. I'd recommend it for those of you that like both mysteries and historical fiction.
]]>I'm not trying to beat a dead horse, but I'm continually fascinated by how difficult it is for me to navigate around here. I'm sure that I'm getting used to it -- but "running to town" is not like running to Fairhaven from South Hill on smooth sidewalks -- although I think it is for Dani (younger and in better shape). Perhaps if this was my normal existence, I would think the same. But, navigating the myriad of steps and the chunky walks makes it seem so much longer. Partly because I am being careful not to lose my balance. I have heard there are a lot of accidents here. It reminds me somewhat of wandering through the rocky tide pools when the tide is out. I am, however, getting oriented to the twisty alleys and could now find my way to town and home again. Today, we walked down to town, but took the bus up through the Albaicin to get home, walking down from the plaza. It is so much easier for me to go down steps than to climb, climb, climb until we get home. Dani reminds me that she got out of breath often at first. I know I'm getting better, but it is still a chore.
Dani and I wandered around town this afternoon through some of her favorite stores. Unfortunately, we left home around 10:30 which meant that we had limited time before shops closed for their mid-afternoon break. We walked through another little Moroccan alley, went to a museum store and bought a few items, went to a little store that resembles IKEA, looked into many more little boutiques, had a fabulous lunch in Bib Rambla Square at Sibarius, an outdoor restaurant. Unfortunately the Apple store was closed as well as the little chapel where Isabel and Ferdinand are buried. So, we settled for coffee and a shared treat before finding the bus home.
We have a little evening ritual that I have enjoyed. Before Nico's bedtime each night, we have watched "Blue Planet" It's a lovely way to end the day. But, that takes me back to Singapore when James was little (before there was a Nico). Every night in Singapore we watched another episode of Arrested Development -- it was in its infancy, and such an outlandish show. No wonder James has a quirky sense of humor!
Tomorrow is Saturday and Charles returns from Scotland. I have been promised a special breakfast with churros at a favorite place in town. Sounds good to me.
We got off our bus ride to tour Dani's favorite Monestario de San Jeronimo de Granada and once again saw the magnificent statue of Mary and the Joseph lying on the bier that we saw in the Soledad procession last .Friday night. Built in the 1500's, the huge church was amazing with painted vaulted ceilings and an amazing altarpiece. It was flanked by a large garden with orange trees standing like soldiers in perfect columns. But, the most exciting part of the visit was unexpected. A fabulous soprano and tenor were practicing Ave Verum with the organist and the sound reverberated throughout the cathedral as we walked around in awe of the beauty. It was a treat for the senses and brought tears to my eyes.
We then wandered over to another favorite, a fish restaurant in the Mercado de Augustine -- a miniature upscale version of Vancouver's Granville Island market. We had a delicious salmon luncheon. I think they quickly sautéed the salmon (which is lighter than ours) in a salted skillet. It was a treat to have something lighter for a change. Restaurants seem to have a three course lunch, so I began with a cold gazpacho, followed by the salmon with roasted potatoes and a flan.
We then went out to find the next stop so we could catch the tourist bus back to the albicin where we had a short walk home. The rest of the day was spent reading a few magazines that Dani's guests have left and enjoying the shouts of the expats and local Spanish children play soccer in the narrow streets. How on earth they do so with the huge cobblestone walkways -- at least they don't lose the ball often since the walls of the houses flank the street.
Dani made some pasta and we had another late dinner and went to bed.
]]>After dinner we were mulling around all doing different activities from dishes to showers for school to whatever when all the lights went out. Fortunately, because we are so very close to neighbors and alleyways, there were some neighborhood lights shining outside. Also, fortunately, I had my cell phone in my hands and could give a flashlight to Charles who was looking at the electrical box in the living room.
Everything in another country is confusing. The electrical box looks different but we could see that the main switch was unable to keep the lights going. Charles would turn it on, and in a few seconds they would go off again. Dani tried to text their landlord - and then tried to call. And, they were trying to figure out how to tell him what happened in Spanish. Good old Nico said, "Mom, just say No Luz en casa!" Pretty good, we thought.
As Nico and Dani got busy putting candles around the rooms, Charles went to see their new next door neighbors because the husband speaks fluent Spanish and might help speak to the landlord (who ended up being unavailable). The neighbor instead brought over another Spanish neighbor who knew what the problem was. Evidently, when the main switch goes off, you turn off all the switches in the panel box. Then you turn the main switch back on and one by one turn on the others -- noticing which one does not respond -- and that is where the problem lies. We finally decided that something in the kitchen (maybe the really old toaster) was sending a surge to the system.
It was all very dramatic because Charles was getting ready to go to Scotland for a few days. I was concerned that he wouldn't be able to go if he had to leave us to deal with the electrical stuff while he was gone. In any case, everything was back to normal by a late bedtime.
And, that's the time the lights went out in Spain.
]]>We took off with two friends to tour the home of the Belgian painter and musician, Max Moreau, whose former residence is now a museum displaying his work. It is high up the hill with remarkable views of the area and the Alhambra. The gardens, rich with roses, and the individual rooms on display, were beautiful. After stopping for a quick cold drink at Maria's outdoor restaurant, we then went to another home and toured the usual private gardens and reflecting pools on display, but the home itself was closed. It was a perfect balmy day to enjoy the views. The local crowds were out enjoying the opportunity to look inside those otherwise closed private spaces.
Dani and I parted with her friends and walked down to town through the Moroccan Market to have lunch at her favorite, Bodega. Charles and Nico joined us and we stopped for ice cream and wandered through a few stores in town. I still cannot help but get exhausted with the constant climbing and walking on uneven, large pebbled walkways. I walk around bent over looking down at my feet in case there is a looming step. It is a pleasure to walk in town on actual sidewalks. I'm also trying to get used to the dining pace -- coffee after Nico leaves for school about 8:30, breakfast back at home closer to 10:00, lunch when Nico gets home from school around 2:30, and dinner closer to 8:00.
Granada is one of the cities of the Andalusia -- a large area in Southern Spain that was under Moorish rule until the 1500s and includes cities such as Granada, Seville, Gibraltar, and Malaga. The Albicin (or Albaycin, or Albaicin, or Albayzin. I've seen it spelled all these ways - sometimes differing in the same article) is a "barrio" (a neighbourhood) of Granada which has been built on a hill opposite the Alhambra. if I may quote Sara's blog about Granada. She goes on to say the the Arabs designed the area before the advent of cars, hence the maze of cobblestoned streets. It is certainly a unique, and in 1984, it was declared a world heritage site. It is certainly one of the most unique places I have ever visited and well worth a trip to Granada.
]]>We had a feast for Easter dinner. Dani cooked lamb chops -- she gets them from the local butcher. They are thin and small - and you can eat several. She also made her signature French potato casserole. Laurie and Jason's family brought salad and melon with jamon, wonderful cheesy bread, and there were lots of drinks. We made our own dessert from strawberries, meringues, whipped cream, orange cake, fresh oranges -- it was a make-your-own trifle. Jason was the center of attention. I'm not sure how he even managed to make it to Dani's -- he has crutches and he got up the front stairs although we all held our breath. Tomorrow he goes back to the hospital for surgery. They are only going to be here through June and had many things planned which will have to be cancelled unless all goes well with the surgery and he heals extra fast.
A new couple who has moved in next door from Boston came over for dessert. They will be here for three months and their children will go to school during that time. They have a son Nico's age and an older daughter. The expat community seems to be filled with adventurous souls -- sometimes taking a year off from work, other times working from Granada. They all seem to be well traveled folks who want their children to experience another culture. It is pretty impressive. One can see why they all become friends so easily.
It was a lovely Easter although I did miss my usual Easter activities and the rest of my family. I shall not forget this time in Spain and the wonderful week of religious festivities.
]]>It is a small, intimate, church, shaped like a ship, with an altar area that looms 15 steps above the congregation. The church, itself, has been fairly recently restored to its original beauty. The service, in Spanish, was lovely, and I was surrounded by not more than about 40 worshippers. The gentle, white haired, priest officiated on the same level as the congregation and twice walked down the aisle with blessings. I considered taking communion, and wish i had, but didn't feel like I should without a specific invitation to non Catholics. However, since I didn't understand but a mere fraction of the language, maybe I was welcome to do so.
It is hard to capture in mere words the impact of both the service and the sense of setting in such an ancient structure surrounded with icons depicting the saints and martyrs of your faith while the singing of the cloistered nuns swirled in the air. The mass in Spanish added to the mystery. I found that I understood words here and there. I knew that the first sentence of the Apostles Creed began with the word Credo giving me a clue as to what was about to come even though I could not fully participate. Just knowing enough of the mass was a comfort even with a language barrier. Just knowing you were participating in something so ancient that worshippers throughout the centuries had experienced was heartwarming. But, I was fascinated with two particular things. Partway through the service, the priest came into the congregation and people turned to each other and passed the Peace. He made his way through the people, shaking everyone's hands, and some other people did the same. It was heartwarming and reminded me of home. Second, no one kneeled during the service. Maybe Catholics are kneeling less often -- but I was glad to escape those non-padded kneelers.
All in all, it was a lovely Easter service and one I shall never forget. I may need to visit other Catholic or Episcopal churches from time to time just to remind myself of my roots and of the loveliness of ritual.
]]>The drama of the day was a mountain bike accident by Dani and Charles's friend, Jason, who had been with us the night before. He fell on a trail above the Alhambra and broke his tibia and messed up his ankle. He had to wait until someone came down the trail and then another long wait in the heat for enough people to carry him down to the public hospital. After his wife joined him, they soon saw that he would have to wait hours, called an expat doctor friend, who directed him to another private hospital where he got more immediate care. He came home to wait for Monday when he is scheduled to have surgery. All this would sound doable except for the fact that there is no way of reaching his home in the Albaycin without going up many, dozen stairs. And, they live in a four story house close to Dani and Charles.
Tomorrow is Easter and we are planning to go to mass. Everyone who lives here is anxious for the week to be over and Granada to get back to the lazy, quiet, existence as thousands of visitors leave to go home.
]]>Dani and Charles are upstairs talking long distance to a client and working on some editing projects. Nico is over at his friend, Gabby's, playing (I presume) the same things ten year olds play anywhere on the planet. I see around the corner the square they use for soccer. How they play on all the cobblestones is more than I can imagine. A lady came to the door the other day with a plastic bag filled with balls that had been lost in her yard. Evidently her wall is not as tall as other neighbors. Nico had only one ball in the bag, but she gave him the entire bag anyway.
After another sumptuous lunch of special jamon (Spanish ham) and cheese, and olives, and pickles, we later headed down to town to see two processions. There are at least four Semana Santa processions a day, more than 30 per year. Often they begin during the middle of the day and go into the early hours of the next morning. Each represents a brotherhood and the pasos (sculptures) are lodged in various churches. The highlight of each procession is the float carrying the Christ followed, at some point, the float carrying the Virgin Mary. They can be an hour or so apart or only fifteen minutes depending upon the length of the procession. The most dramatic participants are probably the hooded penitents and the camareras, or women dressed in black with the lace shawls and comb mantillas, carrying the huge candles. The 40 or so costaleros are underneath, carrying the several-ton floats on their shoulders, changing with another crew when it becomes too difficult. The other night, Charles observed a crew of women waiting to take their turn for a brief spell. Also included in each procession is the military, the city officials, the band, and others carrying the Christian cross and various other large banners.
Last night, we began with the fairly short Farroviarios procession through the middle of town. The Christ figure was hanging on a cross and the Virgin Mary in velvet followed 15 minutes later. After finding some patio seats at San Germain, a favorite restaurant of Dani's, we were joined by friends, Laurie and Jason. The men held our seats while Dani, Laurie, and I went to Plaza del San Augustine to see the Soledad procession which was very moving. Downtown there were lots of tourists and people shooting pictures. At the Soledad procession, most people were solemn and had no cameras. The Christ figure was prone, lying on a bier, and carried by costaleros on each side of the float instead of underneath. The Virgin Mary was the most beautiful I've seen, and resides in San Jeronimo monastery. Dani had spoken of her earlier. This procession also had lots of children accompanying the participants. It was very moving. The three of us made our way back to the restaurant so the men could meet up with the procession at another point.
I'm sorry that I still cannot put pictures on my blog, but they can be found on Facebook. This has been a fascinating and moving experience. I'm in awe of the amount of preparation and the sheer energy these procession take, and the feeling of the crowd that are generally so respectful and moved by the processions.
]]>There is no dryer here, so I've been doing a chore that I haven't done for years -- hanging out laundry to dry. Since my WA backyard is several stories down, I haven't had a clothesline since I lived in California. I do love the smell of fresh, sun dried, clothing even if it is a bit stiff and wrinkly. Since we had a chicken for dinner last night, I made Nico's favorite chicken soup for dinner.
Dani, Nico, and I walked down to see the daily procession, but missed it by a few minutes. Our hint was that the large crowds were going in the opposite direction. We decided to go find it later in another area of town (the processions last for several hours) but we were too lazy or tired to do so. Mañana will be a new day.
Everyone around here is suffering from the intense crowds that have descended upon Granada. D&C went down to their local (and favorite) coffee place this morning only to find the place packed within the first five minutes of opening. The wi-fi has been running slowly because of the number of users in the system. People are wandering all over the Albaycin sightseeing, and it is impossible to get tickets for the Alhambra. The favorite comment is, "let's wait until next week when it is back to normal."
I'm waiting to go to coffee with D&C when it is back to normal.
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