When I first moved back to Spain (I’m referring to Córdoba in 2010). I considered myself a solitary person. I always said, “Oh, I’d just rather have a few good friends.” I casted a small net. I valued my beauty sleep and I worried about getting too close to people I would eventually just walk away from. You could call it a survival strategy, I suppose.
Somewhere along the timeline of the past three years, things changed. Maybe it had to do with language proficiency-the more confident I was speaking Spanish, the less intimidated I was about small talk en español. Maybe it just had to do with confidence in general. Maybe it has to do with some third factor I am neither old or wise enough to understand yet.
Just to prove I’m really here! A pic from the roof (and black and white so you can’t see the mosquito bites [seriously!!] all over my cheek!)
Either way, today I found myself emailing a dear American friend (that I made in Spain) and I had the sudden realization that my net has grown so much and that is a really beautiful thing. I’m learning how to stay in contact and share stories and because of that, my little solitary self has blossomed. I have coffee pals in Barcelona, burger and beer friends in Charlottesville, afternoon tea ladies in Carrboro (well, now one of them has moved to D.C.), young-adult/friend-cousins pretty much all over… it’s all taken me quite by surprise!
When you spend your time between places, it’s easy to forget the friendship seedlings you planted there. Possibly for the first time, I’m realizing I didn’t sacrifice relationships by becoming the Roamin’ Redhead, but rather I created them. Different people in different places know and care for me in different ways-I mean, of course I know and love them well, too! Today, my glass feels half-full indeed!
It rained ALL morning and most of the afternoon, but like Annie says, the sun will come out!
(Oh, and there’s a story behind this photo. All of us, plus some Ruskis [Russians] hopped in three cars, eat-a-cow hungry, to drive to a fancy restaurant, which is something you know we never do. Lo-and-behold, Yummy Restaurant is closed on this one day a week. We park at the port, only to find most other restaurants are also closed. YIKES! Hungry people roam city looking for food. Scrawny flamenco singer, who inspires very little confidence in the food department because of little corporal evidence of consumption, says “I think I know a place”…so we wander up 50 stairs, meander behind El Claustre, pass 4 giant trashcans and like manna from heaven, we find perhaps the only restaurant still open for serving food at 11:15 pm…with seating for 11. Needless to say, the food came and we ate till our stomachs could hold no more. Naturally, the thing that makes the most sense to do after that is go home, put on a silly hat, and snap a photo that capture the joyful chaos of looking for a restaurant on a Monday night. Also, that’s my new friend C. on the left!)