Hi folks.
Well, nothing fantabulous has happened lately, just stress and hoping that all this will work out.
I'm on the road to success, I think. I have an au pair job for the afternoons, chatting with 3 boys: Javi (11), Alvaro (9) and Nacho (5). Their mom, Helena, is about the coolest lady, now that Catherine is gone, in Spain. Sometimes, we just sit and chat for an hour or so while the kids do their own thing. They all speak English and have spent the year in London, so thye have British accents, which is adorable, for the kids that is.
The other day, Alvaro and Javi and I were at the park and I warned them of some dog poop in the grass. Alvaro immediately ran right through it, on accident. I laughed and told him what he did. Javi turned around and said to me, just like Harry Potter or someone, "Oh, don't mind him, Alvaro's a great poo-steppah." It was hilarious.
That day, we also had a soccer ball juggling contest and played on the playground. I earned instant respect as I juggled the ball over 15 times in a row. The boys' faces were amazed and Alvaro kept sying, "wow." I guess their just not used to athletic girls. But really, I felt they respected me the minute I met them. It was a whole different feeling with the last 2. Alexis was fine, but obviously not obediant and Louise was nice in a way that screamed manipulation. The Matas, my new family, get mad at each other, but don't hit so much or whine at me, they solve it themselves. And my job isn't to solve arguments, it's just to talk. Helena intervenes if the kids are acting up.
Nacho, the littlest, is my fave, I must be honest. He gets a little whiney sometimes, but it's easy to make him stop. And sometimes he just gets this wicked little smile on his face and starts poking Javi, who won't hit him because he's protecting his little brother and Nacho knows just how much he can get away with. Or, sometimes, when I'm playing with the older two, Nacho will just go in his room and start singing softly to himself and do a puzzle or take the scooter and ride up and down the smooth hardwood floors. He's just fun.
Other than the Matas, I've got some pupils to teach English to on Wednesdays and I'm going to coach at a basketball camp this week, starting tomorrow... in spanish! We'll see how it goes. Hopefully all the kids will fall madly in love with me and want me to teach them english all year. There are also a couple coaching opportunities for the year that might work out
Oh, and Helena is a huge Sex and the City fan and has every episode, which she let me borrow! She's so generous. Yesterday she gave me some medicine just becasue she thinks it's a good one and that I should have it if I need it. She used to be a sports nutritionist and worked in the ER so has been giving me tips on what to eat and drink during all the hard practices.
I guess that's all I've got for now. I hope all is well back home.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Getting the bread
Bread in Spain is not just bread. Iñaki often makes the distinction between the soft baguette style that is most common here and the sliced flat bread from the U.S. that is most common at home, as "our bread" and "your bread". The bread in Spain is more delicious, no doubt. It is eaten with every meal and dipped in anything from coffee, to thick, warm chocolate pudding, to oil and vinegar. It can be a meal, a dessert, a snack, you name it. It's also used in place of a knife here while eating. You scoop the tiny bits left on your plate onto your fork with a chunk of bread rather than a utensil and then take a bite of chunk where drags or juices from the meal have been left. However, you can't use a whole piece of bread to do this. You rip a piece from your slice and set the rest alongside your plate to be used later once you've exhausted the first part. To top it all off, I've been instructed to eat my eggs a certain way with the bread. You can't simply cut the egg with a fork and eat it, but you must poke it with the edge of your bread and let the yoke run a bit and then continue to break it up with the bread and scoop it on top and take a bite. It is a wonderful bite.
I've only been to get the bread twice and today was my second time. My first, if we're talking new pueblo bread retrieving. The first official day I got bread was a Sunday. Iñaki and I were making breakfast, at noon, and we only had old bread. So, I went to the nearest open bakery, because most are closed Sunday, and fetched a loaf of bread and a Sunday paper. Isn't that enchanting? I just loved it. The little bakery was on a corner in downtown Pamplona and had low lighting with baskets and baskets of various breads lining the walls from floor to ceiling. It was cool inside and a nice break from the heat outside. I lined up behind a few folks and waited my turn, said, "I'd like one of those," pointing at one of the baskets and grabbed a paper as well. They wrapped up my loaf of bread lovingly in a little piece of wax paper and I paid and walked out, trying my best to master the phrase "hasta luego" which still comes out garbled every time.
I remember feeling so Spanish because of this tiny ritual. It's what everyone does each morning, unless they have theirs delivered, which many of the smaller pueblos do. In Tajonar, our neighbors and Emily's family have a long thin bread bag that they hang on their door and each morning when Em gets up, she opens the front door and there's a fresh loaf waiting for her to be used that day, like milk in 1950s America. Charming.
Today´s bread getting felt a bit different, and for some reason, wonderful. It's pouring down rain today and I wanted a little coffee to cozy things up a touch. I've only tried the coffee at two of the little bakeries here in Zizur and the one right across the plaza from us is better because it uses better milk. So, I grabbed a book, strapped on a hat and hustled across the plaza with some change from the money cup for bread and a spot of joe. It's the first time I've been in the bakery and it's quite cute. It has the bread lining the walls, like most, and a case of pastries in front with lots of little treats on the counter that I'm sure kids beg their moms for each time they enter. There's a little counter to take a quick coffee at or a few tables along the wall if you want a snack or something.
A little lady with died red hair, no color that could be natural, and a man who looked tan and lived in stood behind the counter chatting with customers. The man was a bit more serious and straightened up as soon as I walked in. He said, "hola, dime," and I asked for my cup of coffee and sat at the granite counter on a rickety stool waiting for it. I opened up my book and started reading and he just set the coffee in front of me quietly, so not to disturb. I read a few pages of "In these girls, hope is a muscle," and sipped, secretly scanning the surroundings.
A little boy was sitting at a table to my right all by himself. He couldn't have been more than 7 years old. He had a small bag of chips in front of him and sat in the chair, on his own feet so he could be at the proper height to use the table. He lazily nibbled his snack and looked around at people. When he finished the chips, he walked over to the counter and sat a few stools away from me. Maybe he was a grandchild to one of the people who worked there.
A lady sat in front of the little boy's table, at the next table. I couldn't see what she was eating, but she had the paper all spread out in front of her and was focused on reading. No one bothered her with questions like, "can I get you anything else." A man sat at the opposite end of the counter from me, drinking a coffee as well. The red haired, round lady walked over to chat with him from behind the counter and the man sort of seemed to be waiting for this. As they talked, I realized he couldn't really. His voice was so hoarse and crusty it came out like a forced whisper. The man behind the counter took fresh loaves of bread from the oven and placed them in the baskets, as the lady and the customer talked.
I finished my coffee and stepped to the register and asked for my bread, "una chapata integral, por favor," ("a loaf of wheat bread please"). The man rushed to get it and wrapped it in the little piece of paper, taping it closed. The lady rung me up and gave me my change, with a large, genuine smile on her face. I tucked my bread under one arm, my book under the other and headed for the door, saying, "hasta luego," as I went, still attempting to master it. The man said the same as I headed back out into the rain and tip-toed across the plaza so not to get my pants wet.
I made contact in Zizur! I talked effectively with the people in the cafe and will hopefully go back and make my face one of the regulars and get to know the shop keepers and maybe be sitting there the next time an American wanders in and nervously sits at the counter with a book and surveys the scene. This is the advice Kev gave me when I left, to make myself a regular at a cafe and read a lot. So, here comes year two, and hopefully I'll take his advice and got get the bread every day.
The whole experience, which may seem small and silly to some, cost me one walk in the rain and a euro eighty for my coffee and bread. I'm not sure what we're having for lunch yet, but I know there will be bread involved.
I've only been to get the bread twice and today was my second time. My first, if we're talking new pueblo bread retrieving. The first official day I got bread was a Sunday. Iñaki and I were making breakfast, at noon, and we only had old bread. So, I went to the nearest open bakery, because most are closed Sunday, and fetched a loaf of bread and a Sunday paper. Isn't that enchanting? I just loved it. The little bakery was on a corner in downtown Pamplona and had low lighting with baskets and baskets of various breads lining the walls from floor to ceiling. It was cool inside and a nice break from the heat outside. I lined up behind a few folks and waited my turn, said, "I'd like one of those," pointing at one of the baskets and grabbed a paper as well. They wrapped up my loaf of bread lovingly in a little piece of wax paper and I paid and walked out, trying my best to master the phrase "hasta luego" which still comes out garbled every time.
I remember feeling so Spanish because of this tiny ritual. It's what everyone does each morning, unless they have theirs delivered, which many of the smaller pueblos do. In Tajonar, our neighbors and Emily's family have a long thin bread bag that they hang on their door and each morning when Em gets up, she opens the front door and there's a fresh loaf waiting for her to be used that day, like milk in 1950s America. Charming.
Today´s bread getting felt a bit different, and for some reason, wonderful. It's pouring down rain today and I wanted a little coffee to cozy things up a touch. I've only tried the coffee at two of the little bakeries here in Zizur and the one right across the plaza from us is better because it uses better milk. So, I grabbed a book, strapped on a hat and hustled across the plaza with some change from the money cup for bread and a spot of joe. It's the first time I've been in the bakery and it's quite cute. It has the bread lining the walls, like most, and a case of pastries in front with lots of little treats on the counter that I'm sure kids beg their moms for each time they enter. There's a little counter to take a quick coffee at or a few tables along the wall if you want a snack or something.
A little lady with died red hair, no color that could be natural, and a man who looked tan and lived in stood behind the counter chatting with customers. The man was a bit more serious and straightened up as soon as I walked in. He said, "hola, dime," and I asked for my cup of coffee and sat at the granite counter on a rickety stool waiting for it. I opened up my book and started reading and he just set the coffee in front of me quietly, so not to disturb. I read a few pages of "In these girls, hope is a muscle," and sipped, secretly scanning the surroundings.
A little boy was sitting at a table to my right all by himself. He couldn't have been more than 7 years old. He had a small bag of chips in front of him and sat in the chair, on his own feet so he could be at the proper height to use the table. He lazily nibbled his snack and looked around at people. When he finished the chips, he walked over to the counter and sat a few stools away from me. Maybe he was a grandchild to one of the people who worked there.
A lady sat in front of the little boy's table, at the next table. I couldn't see what she was eating, but she had the paper all spread out in front of her and was focused on reading. No one bothered her with questions like, "can I get you anything else." A man sat at the opposite end of the counter from me, drinking a coffee as well. The red haired, round lady walked over to chat with him from behind the counter and the man sort of seemed to be waiting for this. As they talked, I realized he couldn't really. His voice was so hoarse and crusty it came out like a forced whisper. The man behind the counter took fresh loaves of bread from the oven and placed them in the baskets, as the lady and the customer talked.
I finished my coffee and stepped to the register and asked for my bread, "una chapata integral, por favor," ("a loaf of wheat bread please"). The man rushed to get it and wrapped it in the little piece of paper, taping it closed. The lady rung me up and gave me my change, with a large, genuine smile on her face. I tucked my bread under one arm, my book under the other and headed for the door, saying, "hasta luego," as I went, still attempting to master it. The man said the same as I headed back out into the rain and tip-toed across the plaza so not to get my pants wet.
I made contact in Zizur! I talked effectively with the people in the cafe and will hopefully go back and make my face one of the regulars and get to know the shop keepers and maybe be sitting there the next time an American wanders in and nervously sits at the counter with a book and surveys the scene. This is the advice Kev gave me when I left, to make myself a regular at a cafe and read a lot. So, here comes year two, and hopefully I'll take his advice and got get the bread every day.
The whole experience, which may seem small and silly to some, cost me one walk in the rain and a euro eighty for my coffee and bread. I'm not sure what we're having for lunch yet, but I know there will be bread involved.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Keep them doggies rollin'
Well, I've done it. I'm out of the Rigault household completely. I thought I had until the 24th, but Catherine came to me and said, on Monday, that I had til Wednesday because they're just going to stay in France. This is good on one hand because I was really done with those kids. But, it's also a bit said and gives me a little pang in my chest thinking that it's over and my life is once again changing pretty dramatically.
Yesterday, after pilfering as much food, toilet paper and small appliances as I could, I walked around the house and wrote the kids a couple of notes. It was really nice to hear from Catherine that she thinks Alexis, especially, will really miss me. She said the other day he said to her, "Mom, why do you give Darby the afternoons off? I want to play and you never play with me. She always plays with me." But, at the same time, I think he thinks of me like the kid in "Toy" thinks of Richard Pryor in the beginning. We did have a lot of fun though. The other day we played two on one against Iñaki and we wore uniforms and had a team name and everything. We won, needless to say. Alexis even gave me a little guidance with his eyes sometimes, looking at the place he wanted me to cut to. It was great. I'll miss him.
Louise on the other hand, I will miss some of the moments we had together, but she's 12 folks. She manipulates every chance she gets, doesn't want to do anything but be on the internet or watch movies, which she's not allowed during the week, so it's a constant battle. But, we did have some great shopping trips together. She just needs to be with her friends more and have a bit more freedom. I think she'll really grow a lot in London this year.
Catherine was amazing this year. She really is a wonder woman. She does her job at the store and never comes home in a bad mood. She's always ready with hugs and kisses for the kids and just makes the whole house feel like it functions. She helped me with so much and gave me free time when I needed it and was fabulous. A one of a kind person that you don't meet often in life and I'm glad to know her.
I will not miss all the French cheese, the chocolate drawer, the ice cream stuffed freezer or everything being cooked in oil.
I'm really excited about the new apartment. The furniture is so cool and I'll post pictures as soon as we're all moved in. My camera struggles to keep enough battery power, otherwise I'd have pics for you today. We've got 3 bedrooms, 2 bath, fully furnished and awesome kitchen and a terrace on the back big enough for a table and 6 chairs I'd say. We're on the 4th floor. We're 2 blocks away from the club where I play basketball and Iñaki coaches and it's great. Iñaki just got a job assistant coaching with another team that's semi-pro here in Pamplona and they have 2 Americans coming. They fly in this Saturday and Iñaki is supposed to act as a translator. I can't wait to meet them! One is from New Orleans and the other I'm not sure, but he went to Lafayette.
As far as me, mentally goes, I feel unsure, but pretty good. I can't believe the changes and adventures and ups and downs this year has brought me. I've been homesick, I've met lots of new people, I've grieved, I've learned a new language and continue to, I've played hoops, I've been to San Fermin, I learned how to drive a stick shift, I've learned some Spanish cuisine and I travelled a ton. The ups were really up and the downs were super down, but all in all, I'm happy here. I don't know if I could have said that my last year in Portland. And through all of this, I don't really feel like my insides, like the person I was and am has changed. In reality, I don't think I've changed much on the inside my whole life. My basic Darby essence has stayed intact since birth. But, I really thought this experience would change who I am and I don't think it did much. I realized what I'm capable of and that if I can move half way across the world alone, than I can do lots more. But my favorite places and people are still in Oregon. I like the fact that I still feel like me though. I guess it just means I like who I am and I think that's a good thing. Maybe I like myself too much sometimes, but don't we all?
Now, for the unknown... in one of my last conversations with Dave, I said to him, "I don't know what I'm going to do next, but I feel free." He told me he knew that's why I needed to be in Spain and following my heart. He said that was always one of my big issues back in Portland, I felt stuck, but not with any direction to go in, so I stayed stuck and it weighed on me. He said that statement, that I felt free, gave him a lot of peace of mind and it made me feel wonderful that he recognized that and pointed it out to me so I could realize the amount of good this trip to Spain has actually done me.
So, I'm trying to continue to feel free, but it's hard when I don't have a job or know for sure what will be in the months to come. I know that if this was the case last year, I'd be home right now. It wouldn't even be a question. It might just be stupid of me to try, but I'm gonna give it a shot and see if I can make it. If not, the worst thing that happens is I go home and get a job and plan my next move.
Here we go again, Darb's big adventure, part two! Hopefully I'll see you all at Christmas, and not before. We get tons of time off here for Christmas, so it should be a good long stay at home. And, just so you know, I have no Christmas list this year, just pool together and get me a flight home!
Love you!
Yesterday, after pilfering as much food, toilet paper and small appliances as I could, I walked around the house and wrote the kids a couple of notes. It was really nice to hear from Catherine that she thinks Alexis, especially, will really miss me. She said the other day he said to her, "Mom, why do you give Darby the afternoons off? I want to play and you never play with me. She always plays with me." But, at the same time, I think he thinks of me like the kid in "Toy" thinks of Richard Pryor in the beginning. We did have a lot of fun though. The other day we played two on one against Iñaki and we wore uniforms and had a team name and everything. We won, needless to say. Alexis even gave me a little guidance with his eyes sometimes, looking at the place he wanted me to cut to. It was great. I'll miss him.
Louise on the other hand, I will miss some of the moments we had together, but she's 12 folks. She manipulates every chance she gets, doesn't want to do anything but be on the internet or watch movies, which she's not allowed during the week, so it's a constant battle. But, we did have some great shopping trips together. She just needs to be with her friends more and have a bit more freedom. I think she'll really grow a lot in London this year.
Catherine was amazing this year. She really is a wonder woman. She does her job at the store and never comes home in a bad mood. She's always ready with hugs and kisses for the kids and just makes the whole house feel like it functions. She helped me with so much and gave me free time when I needed it and was fabulous. A one of a kind person that you don't meet often in life and I'm glad to know her.
I will not miss all the French cheese, the chocolate drawer, the ice cream stuffed freezer or everything being cooked in oil.
I'm really excited about the new apartment. The furniture is so cool and I'll post pictures as soon as we're all moved in. My camera struggles to keep enough battery power, otherwise I'd have pics for you today. We've got 3 bedrooms, 2 bath, fully furnished and awesome kitchen and a terrace on the back big enough for a table and 6 chairs I'd say. We're on the 4th floor. We're 2 blocks away from the club where I play basketball and Iñaki coaches and it's great. Iñaki just got a job assistant coaching with another team that's semi-pro here in Pamplona and they have 2 Americans coming. They fly in this Saturday and Iñaki is supposed to act as a translator. I can't wait to meet them! One is from New Orleans and the other I'm not sure, but he went to Lafayette.
As far as me, mentally goes, I feel unsure, but pretty good. I can't believe the changes and adventures and ups and downs this year has brought me. I've been homesick, I've met lots of new people, I've grieved, I've learned a new language and continue to, I've played hoops, I've been to San Fermin, I learned how to drive a stick shift, I've learned some Spanish cuisine and I travelled a ton. The ups were really up and the downs were super down, but all in all, I'm happy here. I don't know if I could have said that my last year in Portland. And through all of this, I don't really feel like my insides, like the person I was and am has changed. In reality, I don't think I've changed much on the inside my whole life. My basic Darby essence has stayed intact since birth. But, I really thought this experience would change who I am and I don't think it did much. I realized what I'm capable of and that if I can move half way across the world alone, than I can do lots more. But my favorite places and people are still in Oregon. I like the fact that I still feel like me though. I guess it just means I like who I am and I think that's a good thing. Maybe I like myself too much sometimes, but don't we all?
Now, for the unknown... in one of my last conversations with Dave, I said to him, "I don't know what I'm going to do next, but I feel free." He told me he knew that's why I needed to be in Spain and following my heart. He said that was always one of my big issues back in Portland, I felt stuck, but not with any direction to go in, so I stayed stuck and it weighed on me. He said that statement, that I felt free, gave him a lot of peace of mind and it made me feel wonderful that he recognized that and pointed it out to me so I could realize the amount of good this trip to Spain has actually done me.
So, I'm trying to continue to feel free, but it's hard when I don't have a job or know for sure what will be in the months to come. I know that if this was the case last year, I'd be home right now. It wouldn't even be a question. It might just be stupid of me to try, but I'm gonna give it a shot and see if I can make it. If not, the worst thing that happens is I go home and get a job and plan my next move.
Here we go again, Darb's big adventure, part two! Hopefully I'll see you all at Christmas, and not before. We get tons of time off here for Christmas, so it should be a good long stay at home. And, just so you know, I have no Christmas list this year, just pool together and get me a flight home!
Love you!
Friday, August 03, 2007
Sunflowers!
So, the other night... I'm not sure that I mentioned the 11 p.m. picnic yet? Well, Iñaki, Luis and I had one. We were driving around in the dark with all our food, tummies growling and my headlights flashed on a patch of sunflowers. Iñaki said they have them all over the place in Pamplona and I couldn't wait to see them in the daylight.
Now I am pretending to be Maximus in Gladiator.
The beginning of the T and a hint of the sunny yellowness to come just past the trees.
My first view of the beauties.
I'm just so happy to be near so much brightness. I think I get that from Dad.
Many sunny returns!
The other day I was running what I like to call, "the Tajo T" which consists of an old trail into someone's field of overgrown grass across the way from our house. Well, just as I passed the tall trees at the edge of the field, Taj Mahal's "Corinna" came on my iPod (which I love) and I looked to the left and saw a huge field of sunflowers staring back at me. I can't even describe the feeling. It was about 8, so the sun was on it's way to the horizon and the field seemed to go on forever and sparkle, yellow and green in the late evening rays. I felt like I just walked onto a the Walker plantation in the Ya Ya Sisterhood. The dad ends up turning up all his tobacco in that book and planting sunflowers.
So, for my next run, I went a bit earlier and then came back to the house for my camera so I could get some pics before the sun set. Here's what I saw...
In this one, I am commencing the run out to the T, working so hard.
I'm just so happy to be near so much brightness. I think I get that from Dad.Many sunny returns!
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