All in the family
The great part of this trip to Spain has to be the family that I have the grand opportunity to stay with in their home. They are so fantastic that they don't care that I can't fucking speak a single, intelligent word of Spanish, we are uniting in expressing ourselves with our hands- faces- and feelings.
A huge fight took place between a mother and daughter. How fucking standard is that? I could probably stay in a hut with Indians from remote areas of South America and a fight would break out between family members over something--not chewing your palm frawn properly or whatever. However, with the Spanish temper it certainly took on new dimensions, but it was so darn understandable that I was entertained.
I'm beginning to understand the relativity of this trip over here: there is nothing different except the language and that is beginning to wane as we have found other ways to communicate. If I stayed here long enough I would quickly learn the language. Being immersed in it is one way to "sink or swim" style of learning it.
An insomniac in Spain
I've been fucking sleeping like a baby. I'm so exhausted due to the constant issue of translating at all times that I pass out. However, there were sleep quarter issues which kept me awake all night. Grumpy, MUY MALA this morning. (Yes, I love to use those words I have longed to use.)
However, due to the custom of eating a large lunch and then taking a nap, I'm saved! I love this schedule, why it was made for me. I stay up late, eating and drinking all night, then wake up to the idea that I only have a few hours before a big meal and then I'm back to bed. Now most Spainards do not go to bed, they simply nap on the couch or in a chair. I'm taking true advantage of the schedule.
In fact this current post is cutting in on my sleep as we are going to have people over later tonight for food, drink and song, so I need to speed this up.
How I appear to them
It's an intense situation here and I love it as it is great for those who live in the moment. I can't leave the moment as the environment itself challenges me constantly.
But we had a conversation about my hair the other day. My friend and her aunt were discussing what to do about it, and I was lost in translation. Her aunt looked me over like a fish in the marketplace, scanning for a sign of what to do. My hair is seriously frizzed and it started in London. So my hair would not be changed but the funny part was when she descrided me as "the lioness."
I got the distinct impression she meant a lion's mane, but that was not important, it was too cool to have that monicker to utilize.
Last night after our afternoon naps, my friend's aunt and uncle took me for a stroll around the area to a point I could get a panoramic view of the cities. Seville is not too far off of this suburb known as San Paublo.
The air was filled with the smell of orange blossoms as the citruis trees are growing all throughout the city. My friend's uncle was translating to me that he feels "drunk" of the intense odor. It's spring in Spain much like California, same weather pattern.
While we were walking some of the teenagers I had met before, the one's who were not insane, followed us around. They waited until they found us standing on the hill under terraces of vines looking out over the vista.
They also apparently have a crush on me. My friends aunt and uncle got a kick out of my fans following me around. I'm much older than they think I am. Not 25 - as one of them guessed and changed it to 17. LOL
It's time for the lioness to lay down on the Serrenghetti and take a nap as the sun is hot.
Buenas Tardes amigos! Laura Hart The Bi-polar American in Spain continues...(when I wake up, of course)