Last Day In Salamanca

A few days ago I was peeling layers of the onion, filled with feelings. Some normal for the situation, some unexpected. Feeling sad to be leaving. The family I am living with has been beyond kind to me. The mom of my home here, Toyí has helped me in so many ways and made me comfortable in her home. She made me doughnuts the morning I left for London. The other day she made some doughnuts and sent them to the secretary of the school thanking her for the opportunity to know me. Then she gave me a gift  and a picture of herself taken by a professional when she was a young woman. She wrote a sweet note on the back. My men's group has been so much fun and a life saver. I went to English speaking meetings in Amsterdam, Prague and London, but the spirit of the Salamanca group was more like my home group DIS. Even though I could not participate much because I don´t speak Spanish very well and I didn´t understand everything they said, the language of the heart was there. I will miss them. Some of them gave me little presents during my time here like a purple pen, a key chain with the serenity prayer, and a card with the serenity prayer.


Feeling a longing for home. Just simple things like being able to walk around the house naked. Sitting in my chair watching TV (especially the Dodgers!) Making myself a cup of coffee and drinking it black. I never thought I would tire of Café con Leche, but I will be glad to have a cup of black coffee in a mug.

Feeling old. I woke up the other morning and thought about how long I have lived, all the changes that have happened in the world, and the changes in me. For the first time in my life I realized that I am old. Most of the time I feel like I'm twenty. Seriously. Then I look in a mirror or get a pain in my hip and realize I am not twenty. I'm not complaining. I have had and am having an amazing life.  I love my life. 

Feeling not a part of. I am in a group of kids barely twenty who have spent most of their time here drinking, recovering from drinking or planning drinking. Been there, done that and have more than a tee shirt to prove it. I'm not twenty and I no longer drink. So why would I fit in?  I was a lot wilder than they could dream of being, and for that reason probably wouldn't have fit in with them then either. They are good kids, sowing a few wild oats. Not my story. They have been good sports about having an old lady in their group.

Feeling disappointed. I pretty much get all of the feelings except disappointed. I believe I had unrealistic expectations. I thought I would spend a few months studying Spanish here in Spain and be fluent. This is probably unrealistic in the best of circumstances, but as I mentioned earlier, I am old. These days words I know in English slip from my reach just as I go to say something and I'm trying to cram a whole new language and vocabulary into a very used container. I have learned an incredible amount and can actually talk to people with a little confidence, knowing that I am probably butchering the language and the grammar, but that they will understand what I am trying to say. 

I woke up today to frozen rain pouring from the sky. It wasn´t rain because it was frozen, it wasn´t hail because it was too was too small, and it wasn't snow because it became water when it hit the ground. It was just somewhere in the murky middle.All day the weather just flitted from frozen rain to cloudy skies, to sun. My emotions swirled in the same uncertainty. I woke up excited that I am going home, then I was sad that I was leaving my home here, back and forth all day.

During one of the cloudy sunny times today I got in a two hour walk to say goodbye to the Rio Tormes. I love that river. I have enjoyed watching it's changing moods. I have seen it in the frozen dry winter and in the wet spring. Perhaps after my pilgrimage this summer I can see it in the fall. The plaza Mayor is the big tourist attraction and the place everyone feels you just have to see, but I love the river more. And I will miss it. At home I have my ocean, and I love that too.


I am leaving my home here to go to my home in the States. Spain pulls on me, attracts me, like no other place I have visited. I feel at home here. I have no idea why I feel this way. As far as I know I have no Spanish blood in me. I have no ancestors here. I grew up in a large Mexican community and I loved that also, but it is different than Spain. I have been a lot of places and I have loved a lot of them, but I feel drawn to Spain. So I feel like I have two homes. Not bad, not bad at all.


I will be leaving tomorrow, but I will be back in June. Leea and I will fly into Madrid the first of July and then travel to Marrekech, Fes, Istanbul and Barcelona. Leea will fly back to the States after three weeks and I will start my pilgrimage on The Camino from St Jean Pied-de-Port in France to Santiago de Compestela in Galicia, Spain, an 800 kilometer/ 500 mile trek across northern Spain. So I will be home and then home again. I do love my life.