Personal encounters: The Cultural Group

She is so small, so fragile yet possesses a fierce lust for life. She omits a quiet yet forceful dignity as she walks half doubled over, her eyesight bad enough for her to grab the back of chairs for guidance.

I first saw her enter the classroom in The Civic Centre last term. I instantly recalled my own Grandmother; sentimental recollections and associations.

We begin the discussion. She rarely speaks but she listens intently and absorbs the energy of the other participants .
I wonder about her life, where she lives, if she has children who take care of her.

The voices of the others fill the air and compete to be heard. They fling themselves around the room like missiles. Their urge to be heard is almost painfully aggressive .

Egos and restlessness of the older generation who may have been forced to suppress their opinions by our youthful society.

I watch their faces change as they become animated or begin to argue their point. Occasionally a separate conversation begins between two of them, and disorder rules.I am the instigator and secret observer.

I see them as individual Worlds, to be discovered and learnt from.How do they see me?

We say goodbye. They crowd into the lift as I take the stairs. Another week will pass before we come together again.

Shirking responsibility in modern society

Saturday night a smiling man throws his empty beer can on the ground in crowded downtown. He bounces away conscience free.He turns to me to try to flirt as I stare at him with contempt. I verbally challenge him and he looks sheepish and walks on.
I wonder what makes people believe that as apparent tax payers, we can abandon good behaviour whenever it suits. One worrying excuse is that 'tomorrow someone will come along to pick it up'. Have we regressed to a hierarchical mindset, where others are our minions and where personal responsibility for our actions doesn't exist?

I went home that night disgusted.

The other culture II

4-1-14

A day of work. A lunch hour devoted to visiting a garden centre, and having lunch in a steamy, humid cafe...

5-1-14

More chores in the local town. More time together.

6-1-14

A week of joy at teaching well educated, small, innocent creatures. A reminder of the positive aspects of my own culture. Happiness, dancing, artwork, visual observations of the environment and frenzied creative activity of the children.

7-1-14

A sense of calm. A still, sunny day. Familiarity. Recognition. Local life and how things change: my High School classmates now collecting their children from school. Greetings. Rushed conversations over the School wall.

8-1-14

Another success. Talent exuding from Year 6. Gratitude and a responsive attitude. 

9-1-14

Time to leave, to come back to Spain. A last, delicious lunch and a somewhat cold goodbye.

The other culture

23-12-13

The day of the party. The first glimpses of our town.

24-12-13

The house. A sense of expectancy.

25-12-13

A day of no photos, of quiet celebrations. A late evening Christmas dinner. No make up. A dog walk in the dark. A still night. No wind. No rain. By the sea.

26-12-13

An invitation to somebody else´s home. A veritable melting pot of hilarity from the man of the house. Fire on too high. A wine glass filled to the top with his best whiskey. All for me.

27-12-13

Non descript.


28-12-13

An anxious walk with an over excited dog. The bench. He died this day 7 years ago. My mother´s exquisite words etched onto a plaque. The view over to our house.

29-12-13

More indulgent drinking. No structure to the days. Simply endless time to enjoy and partake in social interactions without a sense of guilt or blame.

30-12-13

A day of outings.

31-12-13

The day just a pretext to the evening and it´s celebrations. 20 friends. An odd meal. The company outshining the food. A sense of being surrounded by people who truly know you; the child you, the old you, the current you. No words needed.  Elation.

 1-1-14

The New Year.

 2-1-14

The afternoon spent shopping. Then she left.

3-1-14

Domesticity...