Feel the Rhythm: Espana!

...and I thought I was doing good just to remember 'carne'!

My friend Brent emailed that day to ask me what I had learned. “What have you learned today?” somehow posed threat in an email; what if I hadn’t learned anything yet and it was already 6:00?! A moment passed where nothing easily came to my mind. I searched in vain (in typical over-analytical fashion) to withdraw some major lesson from the happenings of that day in the streets of Cadiz. Had I simply floated through the last 24 hours with my guard down and my eyes hidden? Maybe I had.

…Or maybe I hadn’t. Let’s be optimistic here --

 I would like to believe the days in Spain filtered through my world to teach me RHYTHM. Yes, that’s what I’ll settle on. Rhythm = My Spanish Lesson. It was less the lesson I learned and more they rhythm that I felt. The rhythm of 4 hour long, lingering lunches like I shared with new friends on the first day in port; the rhythm of late nights … and then late mornings spent without much guilt; the rhythm of a small breakfast and large lunch that felt like it made so much more sense; the rhythm of long, restorative siestas in the afternoon --- and going with the flow when plans suddenly changed. It was all about the rhythm in Spain: My perspective shifted.  

Cadiz streets are awesome!

gambas!

My first step off the boat filled me with memories of docking in this very place only 14 short months ago. It was my first port on my first voyage with Semester at Sea: Summer ’09. The ‘me’ that stepped off the boat back then feels slightly different than the ‘me’ that stepped off the boat this time; Time has changed me. I was familiar with this place; it felt nice and comfortable to start off in a place that was ‘different’…but ‘easy’. Viva Espana!

My first order of business was to buy a bus ticket for early the next morning. Ronda was my destination because there was a feria and a bullfight that I was intent on going to. Despite all my ethical hesitations, I had to know for myself what it was like. An also inquisitive student and I were willing to make the 4 hour bus trip just to see this Spanish iconic event live with out own eyes.

Naively assuming that little in Cadiz had changed in the time I had been gone, I walked 30 minutes around the port to where I distinctly remembered the bus station being. How pompous I felt when I realized the bus station had temporarily relocated directly across from where we were docked! – back at where I had just come from. I jumped off our boat in my own rhythm, ignorant of the rhythm of change happening in my absence. As Alexander Pope said: Some people will never learn anything, for this reason, because they understand everything too soon.  I shook my head in shame at how little of my surroundings I was actually seeing. This was not travel. My mind was not in the present.

My virgin hitch-hiking moment.

In the end, we missed our bus the next morning and never made it to the bullfight. But, if I HAD made that bus, I never would have felt the rhythm of going with the flow & trusting that everything always works out in the end. I needed to be shaken up a bit to bring me into the moment, to show me all the things possible outside of what I had planned. The student and I probably broke all unwritten SAS rules because we subsequently tried our damndest at hitch-hiking to the town 4 hours away, still determined to see the fight. It was a hilarious morning, even if it was a massive FAIL!

We missed our bus. We never were picked up. We missed the fight. But I had a great time in Spain! My own rhythm took over after the disappointing morning and I quickly found my feet again.

Already, I had communicated with a wonderful woman I met on www.workaway.info that was in need of help in her home/garden in exchange for accommodation and meals. This is similar to the other WHOOF experiences I’ve had, so I was keen to experience Spain in this way. I felt very positive about this lady – sight unseen –after all of her efforts to help me sort out getting to the bullfight before arriving to her house. I spent 3 wonderful days at the home of an ex-travel writer-come thoroughly well traveled –come speaker of 5 languages come ex-actress in Europe and the US –come palmist –come real estate broker – come Moroccan vacationer – come blah blah blah…..She was really great & needless to say, I quickly was drawn into the rhythm of her world, which surprisingly was similar to my own.

Sunset at Feria in Conil

queso y queso!

In exchange for helping her transfer movies to disc and fill sand snakes for drafts around her door, I was privy to life in a small Spanish community, mostly untouched by tourist influence and anyone other than Spaniards and other Europeans on vacation. I enjoyed most her infinite role as cultural broker for me: teaching me about buying wild baby rabbits from the grocer around the corner, how difficult real estate transactions happen in Spain, pointing out all the local homes and teaching me who lives where and the connections between everyone. We walked around the corner to buy organic produce and eggs from the neighboring farmer and cuts of fresh cheese from the shop on the next street over. The community was directly on the coast so the constant breeze from the Atlantic Ocean made sleeping at night with the windows open about as beautiful as the sheer act of napping each day during siesta. We enjoyed gin & tonics at night and fresh salads during the day. She taught me about all-things-Spanish and encouraged me tremendously to pursue my travel writing … plus showed me how! I ate local olive oil which made my toes curl!! & watched surfers on the windswept beach from the feria grounds we visited.  I felt the rhythm of the village as I languidly wandered in the market and easily waited in line at the post office. I felt the rhythm of the day by following the lead as to when she ate and when she slept – all on the Spanish schedule. I also felt the rhythm of not ever rushing because in Spain, there always felt like time was never the issue. More than anything, I enjoyed the rhythm of just going with the flow. Life always seems to take you to where you need to be.

Regardless of me not having any plan other than drinking café con leche all day on Day #1 in Cadiz, my Spanish experience was tremendous. I got adequate away-from-the-ship time and learned an awful lot of true, untainted local knowledge in the small village where I resided for the majority of the port. If I ever come back, only focusing on finding more of the Spanish rhythm will be my goal…oh, and enjoying churros con chocolate which somehow I missed!