Woke up around 9:30am and got ready for work. Made my way out onto the streets for a stroll. I walked into the cathedral and caught the Gospel of morning mass- the parable of the blind man. "What is it you are asking for?" "To see again." "Then, go, and see, your faith has saved you." I can't tell you how many times I've asked for better "sight," have asked to be able to see something more clearly. It's difficult for someone like me-who sometimes gets so bogged down in detail-to remember there's a bigger picture. Asking for "sight" is probably a good thing for me on this trip in many respects, not the least of which is just opening my eyes to all the newness around me.
Time at CIEE today was celestial. The office is located at la Universidad de Alicante, and the space they've created is very modern, with storage space and extra rooms hidden behind doors in the walls. Secret passages everywhere! The space is so efficiently used that quite a few staff members can work peacefully in the same space, but also have places to retire to when they need to work alone.
Let's see...the people are wonderful. After the office tour, we went to lunch and practically feasted on ham, cheese, bread, and salad. Then came the paella (two kinds: meat and fish) where the shrimp literally melted in my mouth. Coffee to finish and sparkling conversation all during dinner.
Which brings me to my Spanish--we're getting there. It's so wonderful and humbling to me (and I'm so grateful) for how patient the staff at CIEE are with me. I can understand roughly 90% of everything that's said around me, but I have had very little practice actually speaking Spanish or using the vocabulary in the past 6 years. Still, I'm feeling more self-confident every second I spend with them, mostly because they are so patient and helpful. I've done some review tonight in the hopes that I'll find even more self confidence tomorrow.
It's funny how I'm experiencing all the cultural differences that I advise or talk to students about: the strangeness of not hearing English, the lump in your throat when you go to speak to someone in another language, the feeling a bit like an outsider at first, the not knowing your surroundings, learning how to open the door to my apartment (which took me almost 10 tries, by the way), or re-learning how to use the toilets, how to order coffee at the local plaza, how to use the basket at the grocery store, when to pay for your meal, how to share food at the table, getting accustomed to the vernacular (i.e. "vale"), learning how to dress for the weather, how to order your coffee (which you can order 5,000 different ways, I've learned), how to work the shower, etc. etc. etc. The list goes on and on. All those things that we tell students to be prepared for when they study abroad - and here I am getting the privilege to experience them, having the privilege to be pushed out of my comfort zone and learn so much from it.
Lunch was lovely - I was sitting there thinking, "I'm sitting here listening to people have a conversation all in Spanish, in Spain, and I'm understanding." This is incredible.
Then, Jennifer brought me home and I set off on a walk by myself.
First I headed for the beach while the sun was setting and stood next to the water, gazing up at el castillo and across the tide. Got sand in my shoes. It was heavenly.
Then made my way down one of the colorful main streets and decided to venture into downtown. Found a little spot to have coffee - this little patch of earth is just down the street from me, and it is sheltered by these ancient rubber trees that are probably at least 15+ feet in circumference (maybe a picture tomorrow). Made acquaintances with the older gentleman who runs the cafe, sat for at least 45 minutes and pondered, then paid my 1.9 euros and continued on.
Started to follow the music. You think I'm joking. I heard a violin playing from up one of the side streets, and suddenly found myself in la Plaza Nueva, stumbling on an enchanting scene. Dim in the gold light of the lanterns was a picturesque European square: you got it, complete with plant-covered balconies, outdoor seating, children playing, etc. But this one boasted even more delight than many - there was a man, happily playing slow Irish tunes on the violin with his case open for donations. How can I describe how beautifully this man played? With this exquisite music filling my ears (and let's be honest, my soul) I caught sight of something rather curious - a stand-alone aquarium (as big as two Ford F-150's) out in the middle of the square, its blue water lit up from above, and HUGE Mediterranean fish swimming about within. These creatures were nearly as big as I am. So, I perched myself up on a bench near the fish and soaked it all in. Who knew there was beauty like this in this world?
Part of the reason I love traveling so much is it reminds me of how wide and beautiful the world really is. When you're in the same place all the time, sometimes you forget to see the nuances and appreciate the small magical things.
So, continuing my observations, I noticed a small boy on a tricycle stop his anxious play and become entranced by the music pouring out of this man and his instrument. The awe on his precious face was so authentic - he saw and heard nothing but the universal language of those beautiful pieces and musical notes. Watching him, I reminded myself that awe is a gift. The boy's father watched him too, and eventually handed him a coin to throw in the violinist's case. The boy timidly tiptoed around him, and before throwing the coin down he caught the eye of the musician - and they shared a moment, a smile. As the young one scampered away back to his dad, he turned again, and fell back into his trance. An exquisite sight to behold, if I do say so myself. And who am I that I got to witness it? Truth (whatever the truth is...) was exchanged there. I can't put my finger on it, or put it into adequate words, but it's one of those times when you see people "get it" and (to their core) find exultation in what's really beautiful.
Anyway, I carried on with my walk and explored the crowded streets some more. Found myself thinking how wonderful it is to get to work and live here for at least a while. This experience, all of it, is a privilege and if I didn't need sleep so badly I might still be out there soaking it up. 'Tis a gift to be challenged, startled, and inebriated with new things. A real gift.
So, encantada - yeah. I guess you could say I've been charmed by everything: the people, the places, the food, and simply the air around. Oh, and by the way, there's a man playing the guitar and singing his lungs out in the plaza beneath my balcony. Whose life am I living again? :)
Vale, well I guess this is good night. Work at CIEE continues with full force tomorrow and I have a feeling I will be learning a lot and have so much fun doing it!
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