On the Road to Spain

“Lorena, Lorena,” the voice was intense and quiet.
“How do you know that my name is Lorena?” she asked.
“I know you. I saw you many times.”
“It is raining,” she observed.
“Do you know that when it rains in Spain it snows here?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And when it rains here it snows in Spain,” he said.
“It never snows in Spain,” she stated in a steady voice.
“Yes. Sometimes it snows in Spain,” the boy insisted quietly.
“It never snows in Spain on Christmas,” she said.
“Spain is the only place where it does not snow on Christmas,” he agreed.
“It does not snow in California on Christmas. California is in America. I used to live in California.”
“My dad goes to America a lot,” said the boy.
“May be he can come to my house in California next time he goes there,” she offered.
“He never stops in America. He just flies the plane there and comes back. He never goes to anybody’s house in America. He flies over the country, that’s all,” the boy observed.
“My dad works in Norway. He also flies there. Then he lives there,” her voice sounded even. She was merely stating a fact. Then she added, “What’s your name?”
The whispering stopped and there was silence. The bus was going at a steady speed through the hills of the Pyrenees. It passed green pastures, vineyards, villages with its churches and fields. Fields that were now bright green with patches of red poppy flowers sprinkled along the road.
“Pablo, Pablo,” she whispered.
“What?” he turned to her.
“I was looking for you,” she said.
“I saw horses.”
“I know,” she felt silent and then added, “My dad told me once that if my mom works a lot we will be able to buy a farm in America and five horses. All I want in life is to live on a farm and ride a horse.”
“My dad just bought a new car,” Pablo said in the same low and intense voice.
“We do not have a car here. We get one when we need it. We are going to move to another country soon.”
The bus crossed the Spanish border. Both of them felt silent looking at the road.

Some Other Girl

My three coffees at El Fornet

So, today is the mother’s day here in Europe. I completely forgot about it. This morning I woke up at 9:44am, which is unusual, as normally 7am would sound about right. Kids are at my parent’s place today! Great! This does not happen very often, thus I appreciate the silence in the morning.

I woke up and read my ipad and stumbled upon a post in a blog I like and it was about a mom, sort of a mother’s day gift.  The post was great and then I realized that I have not congratulated my mom at all. How come I always forget about these things? Then, it got to me that I am also a mom. I never think of myself as one.

Yesterday I was taking my kids to the park and while I was buttoning my suit style jacket my daughter told me, “You do not look like a mom”. I turned to her and asked her how I looked. And she said, “Just like some other girl”. Whatever this means, I took it as a compliment. There we were walking barefoot with my kids in the park…

Grass in the park

I went to the café for breakfast. I am here right now typing all this while finishing my first coffee. I looked at the café’s cakes offering (see the picture below) and it reassured me that it must be a mother’s day here today.  I wanted to ask the girl who made my coffee if it was really a mother’s day, but could not pronounce anything intelligible. I had no voice. Still could whisper. Yesterday I went to the café for dinner and to read the book I just got, and when I was walking home it started to rain heavily. I got totally wet and lost my voice, it happens.  After hearing myself at the cafe this morning, I think this is probably my most attractive voice ever.

Mother's day cakes at el fornet

Yes, it is the mother’s day here in Europe! I checked my email, and I got couple of “happy mother’s day” messages from friends. I also got two awesome emails at my work email, no, not about mother’s day, just about work, straight to the point! Those made my day!

So, today is a great day! After I drink two or three more coffees and read for an hour or so I will go home and work. Because this is what I really want to do. Working makes me think and makes me excited. It feels like I am actually making some difference, creating something from nothings, moving somewhere. Even if we are failing now, we will make it because we are persistent and feel the purpose. We will make it because I can tell people what to do and they will do it. This is a gift I truly value. I have been told that I should go out and enjoy myself, the truth is I hate losing my time at dinners, lunches, having conventional conversations, talking about other people and things, discussing news, etc. It bores me to death. My work is what really makes me excited.

Happy mother’s day to all moms! Do the things you truly love and are passionate about, today and the rest of the days to come! It really does not matter what those things are, as long as you feel it from your heart. And it must be something with purpose.

My favorite corner table at el fornet

ships at el fornetThose are the ship pictures at El Fornet cafe, right in front of my table. I like to sit at this corner table and to glance from time to time, blindly, at the ships while I work. I can see the rest of the cafe from my place too. As a kid, I was excited about ships and learnt to draw them in detail from a technical guide and blueprints. I was preparing myself to build a ship!

Looking Back at my School Years

Institut Ausias MarchThe building in the back is my high school. It is called Institut Ausias March and it is located in the upper part of Barcelona, Spain. I went there between 1994 and 1997. The picture is taken from the park Cervantes. It is a public park, meaning it was and it is free to visit. If I look back at my school years, I remember this park more than the school itself. I ate my lunch here every day with my friends. We talked about our lives and walked in between of the beds of roses.

Park CervantesThis is the bench we used to sit and eat our sandwiches. And then walk, for about ten minutes, as our breaks were short.

Roses in park cervantesWhen you looked up you saw roses over your head.

pasarela park cervantes

park CervantesThis was (and is) the view of the park and of the city from where we ate our lunch.

Lavender in park cervantesI remember one year, it was my birthday and my friend Mireia brought me a container full of home-made Buñuelos. Then, I have just returned from a trip to Portugal where I tried Buñuelos for the first time and I guess I mentioned how good those were. And Mireia did them at home and brought them to school for lunch. It was a surprise and we ate them there on the grass, picnic style. I never forgot this one!

Rose in park cervantes
red rose
park cervantesThe park is in the upper part of Barcelona and very few people know about it. I have never seen tourists in the park. And many times our small group of three or four girls were the only people there at 10:30am.

Olive trees in the parkToday I took my daughter to this park. Every day my belief in beauty becomes stronger. We need to surround our children with the most beautiful sounds, views, thoughts. Otherwise they will never be akin to the real beauty. The only way to keep them away from vulgarity, is to get their eyes used to looking at trees and flowers; Is to get their ears used to listening to the most beautiful music; Is to get their minds used to thinking about life, and magic and the power of the human spirit.

Olive trees in park cervantesWhat haunts me about these olive trees is the round shadow they project on the grass. It reminds me of the rose window in the cathedrals. It makes me feel its silence and serenity.

Red rose

Cypress and the moonAt 10:30am you can still see the moon from the park. Looking back at my school years, I used to think in verse.

Если ты один

Если ты один, и я одна,
Все белым бело,
Не видно неба.
Грозди грусти слеплены из снега,
Словно сплетни из полотен сна.

Если ты живешь через моря,
А меня как будто бы и нету.

Да и я как будто не одна.

Если не судьба, то пусть весна
Проскользнула гранью до рассвета,
Или не успела, да должна.

Блеск ли губ, иль всплеск зрачков поэта,
Ласки рук, твоя щека до сна,
Пара слов на коже как роса,
С первого весеннего букета.

Поцелуем на висках дыханье лета,
На плече твоем моя рука
Звонкий смех в ночи,
пришла весна!

Или это в чистом небе где–то
Спорят невпопад колокола,
Предвещая целостность полета
Может вместе, может на всегда.