Summer heat and frustration

The summer heat suddenly arrived like an unexpected and unwanted visitor and hasn't as of yet dispersed.It makes one bad tempered and intolerant.
Other reasons for this frustration are the occasional misunderstanding between people who love eachother.Insecurities coming from others,transferred onto you create a fury that bubbles up, culminating in reactions that don't help matters.Sometimes the person you spend most time with is the one you suddenly lack complicity with.Intimacy is not always coupled with a strong mental connection.

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.

Adaptation

A conversation held with a friend. Friday 4th October 2013. A café in town. Humidity, rain and heat.

She has been here less time than myself. She has completed the first phase of this life lived abroad. A summer break back home and now she is here again, with a renewed energy.
We spoke of what she has learnt about herself so far, and of the complex nature of social interactions and new friendships conducted in a new place.

It begins with an overload of enthusiasm and urge to meet as many people as possible: a flurry of pro active behaviour. Some early relationships don´t last. Some prove to frustrate more than anything: we come together through shared hobbies or perhaps the same sense of humour begins to gel us to one another. However, a differing of character and most importantly culture induced morals and values, leaves us gasping for air after some unpleasant or dissatisfying interactions.
This city tends to attract a certain type of lost person who doesn´t have the emotional stability to maintain long term relationships: ironically it´s a lack of adaptation skills that they don´t possess. Why do they come here? To find something presumably. These types don´t last long however. They implode and become overwhelmed by negativity towards to city, always avoiding self confrontation and instead blaming others for their situation. Leaving behind those of us who chose to continue adapting and advancing.
We are therefore forced to learn from our short term choices, and how to retain a part of ourselves only for us.

Then comes the second phase of our lives abroad; some friendships and contacts have been lost but better ones are on their way. We start to spend more time listening to our inner voices and trusting those all important instincts. We don´t need to suffer anyone or anything to avoid potential loneliness. Time alone starts to prove more of an attractive and acceptable option. With family far away and a new ferocious independence, we should only really rely on ourselves fundamentally. A sense of calm, of being able to cope in any situation, an intimate relationship with ourselves.

My friend continues to tell me excitedly about her future plans and where she feels she is right now in life. Her face lights up with expectation as the storm clears overhead. The air is so hot. We move outside. We say our goodbyes and I have every faith that what she is searching for is about to be obtained. Her positivity is her strongest tool. If you maintain this then the city will not let you down or reject you; quite the contrary.

Viaje hacía Sevilla: ¿La verdadera españa?

1 a 4 de Junio 2012              Observaciones sevillanas

Primer encuentro: personal del hotel; me recomendaron ir a comer en un sitio se llama ´´Donalds´´. Antiguo, lleno de gente del barrio. Servilletas de papel desparramadas por el suelo..

La comida buenísima; tapas del día

y luego dos señores (quienes me estaban mirando no más entrar en el restaurante y por lo cual me puse hablar con ellos sobre la comida) me invitaron a tomar un café en otro sitio. Fui, y lo pasé muy bien en su compañía.Uno muy atractivo, un señor encantador con una energía muy masculina y constante. Me fascinaba.

Mas tarde un abogado con una vespa y una personalidad algo fiera.Una introducción a la vida nocturna de sevilla.
Dueño borracho de un bar ubicado por el casco historico. Un bar con un interior bastante curioso, decorado estilo religioso. Varias fotografías colgadas por las paredes, en que sale ese dueño posando con personajes de la iglesia.

Me dice: ´´eres una mujer que se quiere mucho a si misma.Se nota.Eres distinta´´. Le fascinaba la manera en que yo tenía pintados los ojos: dos colores de sombra; marrón y un azul brillante.

La noche seguía... 

 Paseando sola por las calles viendo lo que había de interés por allí:

 Calor, ilusión y finalmente un respiro...

Las mujeres sevillanas clasicas y bastante arregladas. Parece que allí en sevilla hay mucho dinero para gastar en el aspecto.O simplemente mucho orgullo y estilo que les conducen a querer ser vistas.

Por otro lado a las mujeres me parecían demasiadas secas, bordes y duras.Una actitud que no te permite entrar en su mundo facilmente.Chispa entre ellas y yo: cero.

El rollo sevillano es, aparentemente, abierto.Pero vamos; a ver hasta que punto te acepten.Ví una sociedad basada en el machismo:algo que obviamente funciona para ellos.Las mujeres tienen su rol y los hombres se meten en su papel.

An unexpected experience one Easter week

A number of months of sporadic emailing. A sense that he would be particularly reserved and formal.A desire to meet him but not over riding.
Months inbetween messages in which lives were lived, and energies focused on other projects and people.Two strangers living in separate countries: one in his, and the other elsewhere.
A casually planned meeting leading up to Easter weekend.The city thriving with tourists and a sense that time was on their side: holidays yearned for and now relished.

Physically no surprise: it was already understood from this side that there would be attraction.Not pleasantly surprised therefore: what had been expected, was indeed delivered.
An almost awkward but strangely comfortable first chat whilst walking through the streets.Trying to watch his face, but instead having to look down to avoid tripping or standing in something less desirable.Eye contact so important, but at times hard to encounter.
A perfectly chosen dinner in his second venue choice.Anchovies and cheese on bread; his own invention, or so it seemed. Ham, olives, white wine and beer. A dry sense of humour, disguised by a reserved and formal manner. Food consumed and particles of personality revealed.
No expectations: the complete opposite infact.Wondering if another drink would be suggested. It was.

Sitting together in the bar where Javier and Penelope had their fight in Vicky, Christina Barcelona. Drinking the strongest drink one could have chosen for a first date.Happy.

Another drink in a French inspired bar, and this time an amusing, more open conversation. Everything seemed so natural. laugther and feeling like oneself. His eyes were beautiful. His hair. His reserved but confident air.

Next stop the kebab shop, his friend´s deserted flat.A shot, some water. Nothing was expected but everything was gladly received.Kisses on the sofa.A warm arm wrapped around. An awkward but life enhancing moment.
.
A shower: cold floor, warm water. Cold floor, warm towel wrapped around a vulnerable but happy body. The mirror. The question. More laughter.Very comfortable. The kebab left to go cold on the floor outside the bathroom.

Someone else's bed. No hesitation. In the midst of such natural romanticism, the ultimate carnal act. Animalistic, yet sweet and beautiful.

Dressing again and about to leave. Change of mind, turning round to see him lying there promising a night of warmth and a mid morning breakfast. Back into bed, fully clothed. His arms automatically there to catch.

Awoken by the endless banging and crashing of the neighbours comings and goings. Heat. Nausea. Three separate trips to the toilet pan. Then back to the bed. A delicious post sickness sleep and then more romanticism. One toenail black with fluff. Pretty eyes. Calm, masculine energy.

Happy.

Surprised to see him walk back into the room after his shower; fully dressed, handsome and smiley.

A breakfast between two new friends. Nice, but tainted by sickness. A lovely fairwell with promises of being in touch. No expectations but a sense of hope.His last comment said in English and somehow out of place.

A sunkissed walk home through the streets, with the remnants of the night before there for all to see; but a satisfaction and contentment that was sorely needed.